you've done nothing at all (to make me love you less)
by danahscott
Summary: No one wants Clarke around, and she knows she's bad for them. So she does the only thing she can think to do, something she's done before: she leaves. (Season 6 Canon Divergent - ignore Murphy not waking up, and all the new people from Sanctum they found lol)
1. Chapter 1

Clarke decided to leave in the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping. Bellamy's hands were no longer around her throat, but it had felt harder to breathe since then, and she didn't think it was just because of the ring of bruises that had already formed. The psychosis had come and gone. Clarke didn't know how soon it would come again, if it would at all, but she didn't want to linger long enough for it to again.

Unfortunately, those memories were still there, the look in Bellamy's eyes as he told her he didn't need her - something she had known for a while now. But she was caught by the hatred there, the pure hatred. When she'd woken up from cryo, and it was just the two of them, she'd almost forgotten that she'd betrayed her friends, almost gotten them killed, and that she was hated by the people she had once called family. And then Emori, Murphy, Raven, Shaw - then they woke up, and there was no forgetting anymore, not when they were always right there to remind her what she did.

But Bellamy, he'd hidden it so well. She'd almost thought it was just water under the bridge. Or maybe she'd just wished that - but clearly she was wrong. She was wrong about a lot of things. When they'd woken up after the psychosis, Clarke's throat had ached, and Bellamy looked at her with some sort of indecipherable expression. "Clarke," he'd said, his voice low and troubled, but then he'd felt the stab wound she'd given him earlier, and there were more pressing issues at hand. Like figuring out how any of them were going to look each other in the eyes after what they'd said and done.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Abby and the others came down, and Clarke didn't have to be the one to wrap Bellamy's wound. Playing doctor with any of her old friends felt like more deja vu than Clarke could handle. It had been a long time since she was their medic, tasked with taking care of every cut, bruise, broken arm and grounder arrow, that they'd endured on the ground, before anyone else had landed, when it was just the 100 against the rest of the stupid, violent world. They weren't those kids anymore.

The suns were starting to set and they were setting up camp inside the old school by the time they had all licked their wounds and gone over the formalities. So when Bellamy came looking for her later, Clarke pretended to be asleep. She heard him talking in a low voice to Jackson, careful not to wake her. "Is she okay?"

"She's sleeping."

"Yes, but…" She heard him sigh. "Has anyone checked her… her neck? For damage?"

There was a pause. "There'll be time in the morning."

After two minutes of silence, Clarke figured that they were gone. And then hours passed, and she hadn't moved, hadn't even opened her eyes, but she hadn't fallen asleep either. Everyone had settled down in mats on the ground around her. Once their breathing had evened out, she'd found herself enacting a plan she hadn't even allowed herself to think about until she was in the middle of doing it. But it had been in the back of her mind all day. She was leaving.

Clarke sat up, blinking in the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Bellamy, Murphy, Raven and Abby slept in the room with her. A little farther away were Echo, Emori, Octavia, Jackson. She'd have to be quiet. Her mom was a light sleeper, and Bellamy jerked awake at the slightest sound, but Clarke knew from experience that Raven and Murphy could sleep through almost anything. Or maybe she didn't know that anymore; maybe they'd changed. Either way, she slipped off her shoes into her hand and crept quietly through the dark. She paused at the stack of supplies, wondering what she should take, what she'd need.

In the end, she settled on a gun. She knew she'd need a gun. The food, the water, she'd leave that to her people, who would notice it missing. Of course, they'd notice the gun missing too, but Clarke hoped they'd forgive her for that at least. This was the last betrayal to them she'd make.

And then she was ready. Just like that. A year spent with them, six years waiting for them to come back, and now Clarke was going to leave them forever, her people. Her friends. Her family, once upon a time. But what was the use in stalling? She felt for her dagger in her pocket, the only thing she'd managed to take with her from Earth.

Clarke almost stepped away before something caught her eye. A radio. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. After all, they didn't have that many. But her fingers curled around it anyway and she slipped it into her pocket. Bellamy stirred behind her and Clarke froze, for one heart-stopping moment, thinking he'd wake up and catch her and make all of this harder than it needed to be. But then he settled back down and she could breathe again.

No wasting time now. She slipped out the door and into the cool night air. It was easier to breathe out here. She put her shoes back on. She was only ten feet away from the door when she heard a voice behind her. "Leaving without telling anybody? Classic Clarke Griffin move."

Clarke's stomach sank. It took her a second to understand what Murphy was referring to, but when she did, she turned around, slowly. He was standing an arm's length away from her. Either he'd gotten stealthier or she would need to work on her survival skills more because she hadn't heard a thing. "You weren't even there after Mount Weather, Murphy."

"No, but I've heard the stories." They stood there a moment in the silence. They were a few feet apart, but it felt like he was far away, maybe so far she could never cross the distance between them. It was funny. She had known her friends wouldn't be happy with her, but she was surprised that Murphy seemed to be taking it hardest, after Raven. But maybe it wasn't so weird. Cockroaches protect their own. So when she left Bellamy in that pit, she was putting Murphy's family at risk. Clarke wouldn't have forgiven herself either.

"This isn't like that," she finally said, but the words sounded weak even to her.

Murphy laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "So, why now? Or were you just planning on leaving while we were sleeping since the moment you got out of cryo?"

Clarke wished he would just let her go in peace. She didn't know if there was anything she could say to him that would make him understand so she just settled for the truth. "You were there today. You saw me trying to - you saw how the eclipse affected me." As she mentioned her psychosis, Murphy shifted a little, looking a little less sure of himself. "I heard my mom telling me that I was the toxin. And that if I wanted to get rid of it, I needed to eliminate myself." Clarke shrugged. "There's more than one way to do that."

"But that was a hallucination."

"It didn't come from nowhere."

Murphy paused. Clarke took the opportunity to take a small step back, closer to her escape. "Do you think Bellamy would agree?" he said, catching her by surprise. "That you're toxic?"

Clarke blinked, taken aback, and then reached up and gingerly touched the bruises around her neck, still pulsing with pain. "These didn't come from nowhere either."

"So that's it? You're just gonna go off on your own in the middle of the night? Clarke, this planet is dangerous. You saw what happened to Shaw."

Clarke looked away. She was glad she wouldn't have to tell Raven she couldn't save him. "I was on my own for six years on Earth, and I'm still standing."

"Yeah, but that was Earth. You don't even know what's edible here. And what if there's another eclipse?"

If Clarke didn't know better, she'd almost say he cared whether she lived or died. "My psychosis only makes me want to hurt myself. And I won't want to do that if I'm far away enough that I can't hurt anyone anymore."

"And if you're wrong?"

Clarke shrugged. "Then I'm wrong."

There was a heavy silence. Nothing left to say. Clarke was leaving - he couldn't change her mind, and he knew that now and Murphy wasn't one to beg. Not that he'd have any reason to. So Clarke turned around and started walking again. She heard his voice behind her. "Be careful." She stopped, turning, waiting for him to say more. Murphy was looking away, down at the ground. "Just don't get yourself killed or anything," he muttered. "We don't want Bellamy to lose his freaking mind. We've got enough to deal with."

Clarke shook her head, turning again, speaking over her shoulder as she walked. "I'll be fine. And so will Bellamy. It won't be the first time I died. And he recovered just fine the last time around."


	2. Chapter 2

Even though Bellamy had been on the ground for a while before this, it was still strange to wake up to the sun. He'd grown up in space, and then he went back for six years, and the only light he got there was the tinny, artificial lights that he'd grown up with. Now that he knew what the sun felt like, he truly understood the difference between the two. That was what Bellamy missed the most when he went back to the Ark. Well, almost. But the other thing was never coming back.

Or so he thought. He'd thought a lot of things would be different when he came back to the ground. But some things, god, some things were exactly the same as they were six years ago. He thought he'd changed so much, and he had, but in a lot of ways he was exactly the same. Especially every time he glanced over and caught a glimpse of blonde hair that the sun had turned golden. Of course, now the sun he was waking up to (or the suns, he should say) made him try and kill his best friends the day before. So he and the sun had a complicated relationship right now.

But it was still a nice feeling to wake up to light pressing onto his eyelids. Sometimes it felt like a fresh start. Bellamy could use one of those. He could always use one of those. It was him with his hands around Clarke's throat, he was the one to hurt her this time. The one to almost - it was hard to even think about it. His memories were fogged with anger and confusion, but he remembered the look in her eyes. He remembered that she looked scared.

They had a lot they still needed to talk about. Didn't they always? But when he looked over to where he'd seen Clarke last, asleep and turned away from him, there was nothing there. Her mat was still rolled out though, and her backpack that she'd found yesterday was next to it, so Bellamy knew she'd be back.

He sat up, blinking the last few lingering traces of sleep out of his eyes. He looked around. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping still, except Murphy's mat was empty too. Careful not to wake anyone, Bellamy stood, heading over to the table which held all of their supplies. He felt a twinge of guilt as his hands wrapped around a gun, but he shook it off. Monty wanted them to better, not stupid. Guns were only a precaution. Though, after yesterday, maybe none of them should have weapons that could kill. Bellamy didn't know what he would have done - what any of them would have done - if they'd come to their senses and found that they'd done real damage, that they'd hurt, or killed, someone they loved.

But he did hurt someone he loved. Bellamy frowned, turning around and heading out the door. He didn't notice one of the guns missing. Not yet. He figured Clarke and Murphy were hanging outside together, and his heart lifted a little at the thought. Maybe they were reconciling their differences. Things had been pretty tense between the two for the past few days. It would be worse now that Raven had come down.

Bellamy loved Raven, of course he did. She was his family. And he knew her really well. And he knew that sometimes it was hard for her to see things outside of just black and white. It would take time, that was all, for her to come around. Time that, thanks to Monty, they had now. The air that had just turned them against each other the day before felt cool and refreshing. A fresh start. They'd already fucked that one up, but maybe it wasn't too late.

Murphy was alone when Bellamy found him, sitting with his back against a building over by the water. Clarke was nowhere in sight. The first surge of panic wormed its way inside Bellamy. He couldn't help it. He spent six years thinking Clarke was dead. Every time she turned a corner he was afraid that she'd suddenly disappear or he'd wake up and realize that this was just a cruel dream made by an algae-muddled mind. But maybe Clarke was just exploring one of the houses.

Bellamy walked up to Murphy. "You're up early for a change."

Murphy looked up at Bellamy with an expression resembling something like dread. He shrugged. "Yeah, well. Couldn't sleep."

Bellamy sat down, laying a hand on Murphy's shoulder. "Yeah. I get it… Yesterday was -"

"Don't worry about it, Bellamy. Wasn't your fault that the first day we set foot on this planet, it already tries to kill us. I think it took us about a week to turn on each other on Earth, so hey, we broke our record."

Bellamy couldn't find it in himself to laugh, and neither could Murphy apparently, so they sat in silence a few moments, listening to the sounds of the bugs that, thankfully, had returned. "Hey, have you seen Clarke?"

Murphy closed his eyes, saying nothing. And then he sighed, saying, "Yeah, I saw her."

Bellamy had lived with Murphy too long to be able to ignore the signs that something was wrong. "Something wrong?"

"Bellamy -"

"What happened? Is she okay?" He couldn't stop replaying what he'd done to her yesterday, and now he was worried that maybe he really had hurt her. He should have had Jackson wake her up last night.

"I don't know," Murphy said, which was the last thing Bellamy wanted to hear.

"What do you mean, you don't know? Where is she?"

"I don't know," Murphy said again, sounding tired. "She left."

It took a moment for Murphy's words to sink in. "When?" Bellamy asked. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Last night. While we were sleeping."

There was just white noise in Bellamy's head, and nothing else. Words came out without him even thinking about them first. "Why?"

Murphy was quiet for a long time before responding. "I think that's for her to tell you."

Bellamy was about to snap back that she wasn't here to tell him anything. He was about to lash out at his friend because he was hurting, an instinct he'd thought he'd gotten rid of after six years, but apparently not, when he heard Miller call from the school. "Hey, Bellamy? We're missing a gun."

Bellamy stood up, glad to have a distraction even though his mind was still spiraling. Murphy was close behind him. "I took one."

"No, I figured that. I mean there are two gone. Unless Murphy's got one?"

Murphy held his hands up in mock surrender. "Empty-handed, I'm afraid."

"And we're missing a radio."

Bellamy stopped. Then he ran. "Let me see the other one."

"Bellamy, what's going on?"  
"Now, Miller."

Murphy fell into step beside him. "Shit," he was saying under his breath. "This is bad."

Confused, Bellamy turned to Murphy to ask what that meant, but within a moment Miller had thrust the radio into Bellamy's hand. He seemed to know that something serious was going on and that he shouldn't ask just yet, but Bellamy could tell there were questions burning on his friend's tongue. But he couldn't focus on that. His finger hovered over the call button. What could he possibly say to her? What would make her come back? "Clarke, come in" he said, pushing down. He waited for a response, hearing none. "Clarke, I know yesterday was bad, but please don't run from this. Please just -" He took a deep breath. "Please just come back and we can talk about it, okay? We can figure it out together."

There was only silence on the other end. In his heart, he already knew she wouldn't answer. He didn't even know if the signal would get through. It wasn't going through yesterday, but that was all the way from space. Clarke was here, somewhere on the ground, he just didn't know how to get to her. "Let me see that," Murphy said, snatching the radio from Bellamy's hands. He took ten long strides away from him and Miller, but Bellamy could still hear what he was saying. "Clarke, if you can hear me, ditch the fucking radio."

"Murphy, what the hell?" Bellamy said, storming toward him.

Murphy ignored him, shaking his head. "And here I was, thinking you were smart enough to go off on your own. Your funeral." His voice was bitter and cutting. He shoved the radio into Bellamy's chest. "Take it."

"What was that about? Why would you tell her to get rid of the radio?"

Murphy was walking away, arms crossed, angry. "Doesn't matter. She'll either do it or she won't do it. We'll never know."

Never. That was such a large word, large enough to open a chasm under Bellamy's feet and swallow him whole. Even after Mount Weather, he knew he'd see her again. The only time he was sure he'd lost Clarke forever was after Praimfaya. But Murphy was right. She could go away now and never come back. Or worse. Bellamy couldn't think about that.

He went back inside, laid down on his mat, and shut his eyes. He couldn't get back to sleep, but he didn't want to talk to anyone, not right now. Maybe not for a long time.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

A few hours later, Murphy had done him the service of telling everyone what happened to Clarke. Abby was taking it pretty hard, but she hadn't gone looking. Not yet. Jordan seemed confused. He asked about Madi.

Madi. Bellamy had almost forgotten. How could Clarke go and leave behind her child? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. But somehow Murphy knew so much more than Bellamy did and he just wasn't telling him because it "wasn't his to tell". Murphy had never been noble before, so why start now?

Well, at least he'd told everyone to give Bellamy some space, which was nice. He was out by the water. The radio beckoned to him like a siren from the old myths he used to read to his sister. He had gotten better at resisting temptation, but lately things were feeling stupidly like old times. He didn't even try to stop himself.

"Clarke, do you copy?" Silence. "Clarke, come in." Nothing but static. "Look, I know it's been a hard few weeks. Give or take a hundred years. But I can't help you if you're not here. And you can't help Madi. Clarke, what about Madi? Your daughter?"

There was a crackle on the other end. "Tell her I'm sorry." Clarke's voice. So she was alive.

"Tell her yourself!" Nothing. "Clarke, please come back. Please don't - Clarke. Don't do this. Don't leave things like this." Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "Either answer me now, or you'll never hear from me again. Is that what you want?" He waited. He waited and waited and when there was still nothing on the other end, he muttered, "Fine," he stood up, and he threw the radio into the water, just like he'd done seven years ago when a girl in a pod came down to earth and he didn't want to get in trouble with the ark. The deja vu hit him almost as strongly as the immediate regret. But the radio was gone now. No getting it back.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Later that evening, Jackson found an old set of razors that someone left behind, but some of them looked new and unused. "Didn't have these in the bunker." He and Miller stood by a mirror, carefully shaving, seeming lighter than they had in ages.

They asked Murphy if he wanted to join in, but Emori told him, "If you shave the beard, I'll dump you again." When they asked Bellamy, he almost said no. But he somehow found himself making his way over to the mirror. There were razors and scissors left out by the sink. Jackson and Miller had finished and left the bathroom. It was just Bellamy and his reflection.

He'd thought he'd changed so much over those six years he spent in space. But right now, he still felt like the same stupid, irrational kid who got left by Clarke after Mount Weather, the kid who let his emotions take over, who let his heart rule his head. He had tried to be both. But looking in the mirror, with his beard gone, and his hair short, looking at the echo of who he was, just a little older, just a little more world-weary, it felt right. Nothing had changed, not really. You should be able to see that on the outside too.


	3. Chapter 3

Slipping back into surviving on her own was like slipping back into your winter coat again at the end of autumn. Not that Clarke would know much about it, but she'd read about winter in books on the Ark. There wasn't much of a winter on the ground. It probably chalked up to years of radiation, but either way, Clarke never froze to death, so she didn't really mind. She'd had enough to worry about during those six years.

And now, here she was again. She'd found a small pond with water that looked clear enough, and she thought about boiling the water to purify it, but then she thought, screw it. Drinking that water plain went against everything she had trained herself to do for years, but it was nice to realize that none of it actually mattered. She didn't have to keep herself alive so she could see her friends one day, she didn't have to keep herself alive because she had an eleven-year-old to worry about, she didn't have to keep herself alive to be a leader to her people. She owed it only to herself.

That feeling was… kind of amazing. Everything was still a fucking mess, but the stakes for Clarke had gotten drastically smaller. She wasn't responsible for anyone else. It still hurt when the hunger pains set in, though. Murphy was right. She had no idea what was edible or not, but after a day and a half of running on empty, when Clarke saw a berry bush off to the side, she took her chances. They weren't poisonous exactly, but maybe not entirely edible. Or maybe they just didn't sit well with her, because two hours later, she was throwing them up. By the end of her third day, Clarke knew she was really sick. She needed to eat. She was lightheaded and dizzy.

But what she had said to Bellamy only a few days before (was it really such a short time ago?) was true. She had no idea how to survive down here. It was day four that some sort of delirium started to set in. At least Clarke had water. But she'd been walking for days. She couldn't get back to camp if she wanted to. And even now, she didn't. Except for a voice, not coming from the radio that was still in her pocket, but from inside of herself, saying that leaving wasn't enough. That maybe they'd waste resources looking for her. But who would bother? Still, the voice told her that they needed to know she was gone. Forever. They needed to know that much for sure.

She pulled the radio out of her pocket, too starved and delirious to stop herself. "Bellamy," she said. Just like when she was almost out of water on the ground, before she'd found Madi. Incoherent, and desperate. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so…" Her voice tapered off. "I think I'm dying. Shit." She clicked the radio off. What was she trying to do? Get him to come after her? Maybe a part of her did want that - Six years ago, he would have. But now? Clarke clicked it on again, leaning against a tree. "I'm fine. I'm sorry and I'm fine." She slipped the radio back in.

It was like a drug, one that she was trying to wean herself off of. Sometimes, though, addicts die during detox. More likely it would be the hunger that got her. Or maybe there was poison in the water, or any number of things, but somehow Clarke managed to keep walking. She didn't know for how long, or how many stumbling steps she took. She barely knew where she was. She barely remembered she wasn't on Earth anymore. Blackness edged her vision. She was on the ground without knowing how she got there.

But before she completely lost consciousness - and this is where Clarke knew the delirium was fully upon her now - she swore she heard voices. She swore she felt a hand on her arm. And the sky - had it turned red?

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When Clarke came to, she was tied up. Fucking of course she was. She was in some sort of tent, something that achingly reminded her of her first days on Earth with the 100. Her stomach was growling, so she knew she wasn't dead. The bowl of soup sitting on a table to her left made her almost cry with longing. But she was chained to some stupid chair, probably about to be tortured and beaten and disbelieved whenever the people who had found her came back into the room.

She would never know peace. How could she even imagine what it would be like? There was a rustling at the opening to the tent and Clarke let her head drop and her eyes closed. "It's okay, Garrison. Go get restrained. I'll take care of her," a voice said. A woman's. She sounded young, maybe Clarke's age or younger.

Shit. Take care of her? Did that mean kill her?

"If you're sure. I'd say from the looks of the sky, we only have to worry for about… six hours. If you find anything out, take note." That was a man's voice. He sounded older. And after a rustle, Clarke could tell he was gone. She could still smell the soup, but she forced herself to concentrate. The girl came close to the chair. Her touch was gentle, and she laid a hand on Clarke's cheek. It took everything in Clarke not to flinch. And then the girl's hand was pulling Clarke's eye open and as soon as she saw the pupils - alert, awake - the girl recoiled.

Slowly, Clarke raised her head and opened her eyes. The girl was young, Clarke had been right about that. She had long black hair and smooth, dark skin. She was beautiful. She was smiling. "Why didn't you just say you were awake?" she said to Clarke, a hand pressed to her chest in surprise.

"Why am I tied up?" Clarke answered, levelly.

The girl sighed and walked towards the table, picking up the bowl of soup. "You just have bad timing. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Hopefully, I can answer all of them. But first, we need to get some food in you. You were in pretty bad shape when we found you." The girl sat in a chair and lifted the spoon towards Clarke's lips. It took everything in Clarke not to open her mouth and eat. "I'm Elysia. What's your name?"

Clarke knew this tactic. Trying to become friends with your hostage. But fine, she'd bite. "Clarke."

"Okay, Clarke, would you please let me get some food in you before you die of starvation?" Too hungry to hold out any longer, Clarke nodded, opening her mouth. That soup was the best thing she'd ever tasted, but probably just because it was the only thing she'd tasted in days. "Let me tell you," Elysia said, "as many questions as you have, I probably have you beat. Are you from Earth?" There was a shine in Elysia's eyes that made Clarke realize she was actually really interested, like she really wanted to know.

"You could say that."

"Well, that gives me about a million more questions, but let me answer yours. I don't know how long you've been here, but if you were on Sanctum a week ago, then I assume you're familiar with the effects of the eclipse?"

"It's happening again? Already?" Clarke's mind flew to Bellamy and Murphy and the others. Would they be okay? Yes, they would. They'd have to be. They had each other.

"We call it an aftershock. Sometimes, after the eclipse, there's a little bit of leftover residue or something in the air. I don't really know the specifics. When you wake up, I can get someone a lot more experienced to explain it to you. But the sky turns red." Elysia gave Clarke another spoonful of soup.

"Why aren't you tied up? What if you try and kill me?"

"I've always been immune. Some people are. We don't know how to explain that one. Just lucky, I guess. How about you, are you immune?"

Clarke shook her head.

"Well, that's okay. There'll be time to talk when you wake up."  
"What do you mean?"

Elysia gave Clarke a puzzled look. "There's no need to endure psychosis if you don't have to. There's a sedative in the soup. Sorry. Not enough sleep patches to go around."

Clarke's breath caught. She almost spat out the broth in her mouth, but then she calmed down. Everything Elysia was saying made sense. And even if she was lying, what did it matter to Clarke? It didn't. Not yet, at least. And god, she was still so hungry. So she let Elysia feed her the rest of the soup. She started to feel the pull down into darkness, the sluggishness that came blissfully and mercifully, and for once, Clarke went down without a fight.


	4. Chapter 4

No one reacted much to Bellamy's new/old look, except for Murphy: "No beard, short hair, angsting over Clarke? This feels just like year one on the ring." Bellamy responded with a shove, and not exactly a playful one, either. By this point, she had been gone for four days. And Bellamy was realizing she might never come back. He remembered what it was like on the ring, that black day when he'd reached the landmark of more days without Clarke than days with her, and he knew that day would come again.

They were just now talking about waking the others up. Bellamy didn't think that was the worst idea. But what about Madi? He'd have to explain that her mom left, and was sorry, and then what? He had nothing else he could say to her.

But they were just talking about it for now. Actually, that was what they were doing when the sky turned red. Again. Before panic could overtake them, Bellamy went and tore through the books in the little schoolroom. There were a few copies of the book Clarke had found on the shelf, and Bellamy had the fleeting wish that he could see one of the libraries that had stood before Apocalypse One, but he pushed it down. The third and final copy had a post-it note postscript on the back. Aftershocks: 4-10 hours. No other details on what the fuck that was supposed to mean for them, but if Bellamy used his head, he could put two and two together: they had to get chained up again.

He was in the middle of delivering the news to Raven what he needed her to do - it felt fucking lonely, making those decisions by himself - when he was practically attacked from behind by Murphy. "Where's the radio?" Raven was heading off in the other direction, probably to go get everyone restrained and find the other gas canisters, the one Clarke had used to knock him out when he was… He hated that that was the last real memory he had of her.

"What are you talking about, Murphy?"

"What the fuck do you mean, what am I talking about? I mean the radio. Where is it?"

Bellamy shook his head. "Why do you need the radio?"

Murphy hesitated for a moment, but just a moment. "If Clarke still has it, or even had it in the first place, I need to talk to her."

Almost without realizing it, he said, "She had it. She spoke to me."  
Murphy froze suddenly, like he'd turned to stone. His skin looked even paler than usual. And then, more characteristically himself, he cursed under his breath, "Fuck me." He looked at Bellamy again and said, in a low voice, "I need that radio."

"It's gone. I threw it in the lake."

Silence hung between them in the air for a long beat. And then Murphy shoved him, hard. "You threw it in the lake? What the hell were you thinking?" He shoved Bellamy again.

Bellamy put his hands out on Murphy's shoulders, stopping him, gripping hard. "You told her to ditch the radio, why do you care now?"

"You better hope she listened to me, Bellamy. You better hope she did." Murphy turned around and started walking in the other direction, but Bellamy wasn't letting him off this easy. Not anymore.

"Why? Why do you care?" he asked again.

Murphy's words came out in a storm. "Because while you were losing your fucking mind outside the last time the sky got all red, Clarke was putting a knife to her throat because someone on the radio was telling her to kill herself." Once the words escaped Murphy's mouth, he held the expression of both relief and dread. "That's why she left."

Mostly, he looked kind of deflated. But Bellamy only barely registered that. His insides had turned to ice. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. What could he do? He couldn't reach her, he couldn't talk to her. She could be in danger, she could be dying, she could be holding the knife to her throat again, but he would never know. She could die in the woods and he would never, ever find out. And why did that mean she had to leave? There were so many questions burning on the tip of his tongue, but Murphy just grabbed Bellamy by the arm and led him inside.

Everyone was to be sectioned off in rooms, and the gas canisters were at the ready if the eclipse started affecting them. That was the last of the knockout gas, but Bellamy figured that if they needed them again, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. It was too bad Monty was gone - a wound that still felt so fresh - because he'd probably be able to make some new ones. Of course Bellamy was in the same room as Murphy. But the minutes between walking outside and being handcuffed to a table passed in a blur. Bellamy couldn't focus on anything else except Clarke and what he'd learned.

He'd just assumed she'd been immune to the psychosis, like Murphy had seemed to be. But he was wrong. He felt like he'd been wrong about a lot of things. Murphy was rifling around inside the pack, pulling out the canister. From the back of his brain, Bellamy knew this wasn't the plan. "Hey," he said, feeling like he was floating somewhere away from himself. "That's only if the eclipse starts affecting us."

"Yeah, that was the plan last time, and then you tried to strangle me. Forgive me for being cautious."

So Bellamy just nodded, numb. Sleep, even a dreamless one, maybe especially a dreamless one, would come as a welcome relief to Bellamy, who was so goddamned tired of this new planet and the crappy hand it dealt. As the gas filled the room, and Bellamy was pulled backwards into unconsciousness, he could have sworn he heard Clarke's voice, whispering in his ear that he'd killed her again.


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke came to feeling alright, if a little drained, but she could chalk that up to days without food. And she was laid out on a bed, her hands untied, and a bowl of some food that she didn't recognize sitting next to her. There were questions rattling around in Clarke's head - was the food poisoned? Or drugged again? Why was no one here with her? But she was too hungry to be afraid, so she took a bite. And then another, and another, and soon the bowl was empty.

Clarke leaned back, enjoying the full stomach feeling it gave her, the taste of salt on her tongue. She let her mind wander for a few moments, just because she could, just because she had the time to, but she stopped when it led to questions - most notably: what is the rest of your life going to look like now, Clarke? If she was being honest, she'd never really thought she'd live past thirty. She still didn't really believe it. But for all her talk to Lexa about how life was about more than just surviving, she spent so much time trying to do just that that she'd never thought about what she'd do if they finally found the peace they'd been longing for.

She thought maybe she'd have her friends with her if it ever happened. She thought she'd have Bellamy. But if she was alone, with these strange new people, then what did that mean for her? Clarke shut her eyes, tight. There would be time to think about these things later. Not now.

There was a rustling towards the front of the tent. It was Elysia, back again. And she wasn't alone. "I see you enjoyed your food?" a tall man, with a graying beard asked her. Something about him reminded her a little bit of Kane.

Clarke nodded, sitting up, but not saying anything just yet. Holding her cards close to her chest.

"That's good, we're glad we were able to help. Now, we're hoping you could help us, Clarke. We have some questions. I'm sure you understand."

Clarke remained silent, saying nothing. Whether these people seemed trustworthy or not, she couldn't sell out her people, the ones she left behind. The ones who would always be her people, no matter where she was or what they thought of her.

"Where did you come running from?" the man asked. Clarke said nothing still. Elysia cleared her throat in a pointed way, and the man looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then back to Clarke. "Sorry, I've forgotten myself. I'm Ezio." He stretched out a hand towards her, and though part of Clarke wanted to take it, a larger part of her told her to stay very, very still. After an awkward beat, he dropped his hand, laughing a little. "This isn't an interrogation, Clarke. It's a question, that's all. It's not like you dropped out of the sky." Ezio paused. "Unless that was your spaceship we saw last week?"

Clarke blinked back in surprise. Ezio's smile widened.

"Ah. Well, then. There's one question answered." He took a step closer to where she was sitting, and she edged slightly away, disappointed in herself for letting on that easily. "Okay, now maybe you can tell me what you were doing by yourself? That ship was too big for you to be alone." Another silence, so Ezio took another guess. "Were you exiled, Clarke?"

Clarke pursed her lips. "Not by them."

"She speaks," he said, mouth turning up at the corners, with a quick glance at Elysia. "Okay. Now will you tell me what that means?"

She couldn't reveal too much. She needed to know her people were safe, and she had no clue what these people's motives were. But she had to at least try and work with them. "It means… It means I left. That's all."

"And is it true you're from Earth?"

"It's true," Elysia finally piped in. "She told me."

"Then what remains of it?" Ezio asked.

Clarke felt tears sting her eyes. "Nothing."

There was a heavy silence in the room before finally Ezio said, "I see. Then you and your people are refugees." Clarke nodded, not trusting herself to speak just at this moment. They were refugees when they touched down to Earth for the first time, but that hadn't stopped the grounders from attacking. "Do you swear your people don't mean to do ours any harm?"

Clarke didn't know how to answer that. But she wanted it to be true so badly. Finally, she settled on a half-truth. "They won't hurt you if you don't attack them."

Ezio nodded, like this soothed any worries he had. "Then I think we'll leave it there. We do, of course, have more questions, but I think those can wait until you have become more acquainted with us. If that's all, then -"

"You're going to let me stay?" Clarke interrupted.

Ezio looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't we let you stay?" And then, he left the tent, leaving her alone with Elysia.

"Sorry, but we also took your gun," she told Clarke. "We don't like to carry those types of weapons around with us. It's okay, though. You'll learn."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

And she did. Slowly. Days started to pass. Elysia became almost a friend to Clarke. She had a full stomach, and a bed to sleep in every night, people who smiled in a free way, a way only children do or people who know that they are safe. Clarke began to wonder if she'd ever wear one of those smiles. She didn't think so, but maybe she'd learn how to fake it well enough that she'd even be able to convince herself.

It had been almost ten days since she'd left in the middle of the night. She still missed her friends. Even thinking of Madi's name gave Clarke an ache so strong that she had to hole herself up in Elysia's tent for the rest of the night. But that night, night ten, she finally asked a question that had just occurred to her, but would change everything.

"It's strange," she said to Elysia, really only thinking out loud. "I didn't think the last of humanity would end up living in tents. Nice tents, don't get me wrong. But tents." She might have been a little bit tipsy when saying this, too.

Elysia laughed, a merry sound. "We don't."

"You don't live in tents?" Clarke made a big show of looking around.

Elysia, who was a little drunk too, hiccupped. "Only a few weeks every year."

Clarke blinked, confused. "Then where do you live the rest of the time?"

"A compound about a day's walk that way." Elysia pointed in the direction of the place Clarke ran from, the place Clarke's friends were. "It's not safe, you know, because of the eclipse, but then also because of the Hexians."

"The Hexians?"  
"I keep forgetting you're not from here." And then, Elysia dove into an explanation of creatures, creatures that live underground, that live underground in the cold and the dark, and are woken up by the eclipse, creatures that kill with one touch. She must not have been paying attention to the look on Clarke's face, because she was shrugging and laughing, speaking of them as if they existed in fairytales and posed no more of a threat.

"When do they emerge, Elysia? When do they come to the surface?" If Elysia heard the urgency in Clarke's voice, she didn't show it.

"Two weeks after the eclipse, pretty much on the dot. So, I guess two days from now. Just wait, Clarke. In one week, we'll all be back home and then you'll see how we really live. Then you'll really know what it's like to be one of us."


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke came back to the compound almost a full day later when the suns were setting, turning the sky a hazy yellow with purple creeping up at the top. It might have been beautiful, but Clarke wasn't thinking about that. She'd gone up to Ezio as soon as she'd spoken to Elysia, asked for his help. She wasn't surprised when he said no, but she was disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," he'd said, "but we can't risk endangering our people." And she understood. It was the decision she would have made.

"I have to go. I have to warn them."

Ezio nodded, like he had known already what she was going to say. He probably did. He was a leader, too, even if he led during a time of peace. He sent her off with a stash of food, told her the way, and returned her gun. "Good luck, Clarke. If you manage to save your people, I hope we can welcome them like we have welcomed you."

Clarke thought of Octavia, Diyoza, all the criminals that were still in cryo when she left, her daughter the commander, and the people who had followed her into battle. She hoped they could hear Monty, really hear him, and do better. She hoped they wouldn't bring war and devastation to this peaceful compound. But she didn't say any of that. She just shook Ezio's hand and said words that sounded tired from being said too often, "May we meet again."

And now, after a day of walking, she had come back to her people. For a moment, no one saw her. She was allowed to look across the water, at Raven sitting with her feet perched up on a table, smiling at something Emori was saying. Murphy was strewn in front of them, absent-mindedly tracing a finger through the sand. They looked happy. Like they felt safe.

Of course, Clarke would be the one to ruin that. She just wanted to wait here for a bit longer, to live in the moment between seeing them, and them seeing her. But after only a minute or two Raven looked up, still laughing a little bit (though there was an unmistakable sadness draped over her, one Clarke knew came from Shaw) and locked eyes with Clarke. Her face went slack with shock, and then hardened with anger. Without a word to Murphy or Emori, she got to her feet, turned on her heel, and stormed inside one of the many houses.

Murphy sat up, eyebrows knit in confusion. He followed Raven's gaze to where Clarke was still standing, frozen. Somehow, her feet started moving, and so did his, and they met each other in the middle. There was a weird energy in the air. She hadn't thought she'd ever see him again. She remembered his panicked voice on the radio she'd left behind with Elysia, only after leaving one final message to tell them they needed to evacuate. But Clarke doubted anyone had been listening.

She was the first to break the silence. "I need to talk to Bellamy."

"Hello, Clarke, nice to see you too, did you finally realize you were being stupid?"

"It's urgent."

Murphy must have read some of the fear on Clarke's face because he straightened his back and said, "Are we dying again?"

"Yes, if you don't get me Bellamy."

That was all Murphy needed to hear. He turned on his heel and he left. Clarke took a deep breath, trying to steel herself to face him. The last time she saw him, there was hatred in his eyes and his hands around her throat. She knew that wasn't really how he felt - but there was some truth in his psychosis, just like there had been some truth in hers.

This wasn't about them, though. This was about saving everyone. Again. She felt Raven's glare on her, so she backed away a few paces. Maybe she'd leave again, once this danger was over. She couldn't go back to Elysia and her people, because they'd return, hopefully sharing their compound with her friends. Speaking of that, it seemed like, from the state of things, Bellamy had brought everyone down. She wondered if Madi was awake. She felt a tear at her heart, her heart that had already started breaking a little with every glare, every snub, everything that served to remind her things could never, ever go back to before.

But what was the point of thinking about that? There'd be time for everything after they survived, time to talk, time to be honest, time to say how they really felt about each other. But wasn't that what she'd told herself before Praimfaya? And now, any amount of honesty from Clarke would be a betrayal in and of itself.

_Enough, Clarke_, she said to herself, sighing. Just wait for Bellamy. Nothing else mattered.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

One of the things about this new world that stunned Bellamy the most was that he had time to read. He never did on the ground, but that occupied a lot of his time on the Ring. Here, though, they were at peace for the first time. Or rather, his people were - Bellamy wasn't. In truth, he'd been re-reading the same paragraph over and over, trying to hold its meaning in his mind. But, like usual, he was distracted.

He wondered if it would ever get easier. It hadn't on the Ring. And now that he would never know what happened to her, would it be harder? Of course, Bellamy was still strongly considering sending out search parties now that their food stock was taken care of and jobs had been delegated. They were only just getting settled in. There was still something unnerving about how intact everything was, but after three weeks, they hadn't seen anybody, so he'd just have to deal with it if and when people did show up. He would deal with it. Alone. Kane was in cryo, Abby had reverted to her role of medic, and it wasn't like either Octavia or Diyoza could lead. So everyone was looking to him for decisions. It felt hard to bear the weight of that.

Would he ever be free of it? On the bad days, he started to understand why she left. But it bothered him that Murphy understood better, and he wouldn't tell. His momentary anger had quickly hardened into resentment and he was feeling just as abandoned as he had after Mount Weather while still reeling from her betrayal in Polis. He was spiraling deeper into these thoughts when Murphy's voice reached him.

"Earth to Bellamy. We got a problem."

Bellamy groaned, standing up. "What now?" Murphy narrowed his eyes, hesitating. "Just tell me."

"Clarke's back."

Bellamy's immediate reaction was one of joy, in spite of himself, in spite of his anger. The fleeting sense of happiness quickly gave way to relief which quickly gave way to wariness. "What's the problem?"

"Something about how we're all going to die again."

Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut. Of course. What else would bring her back? He felt that sense of dread that always accompanied each new problem on the ground, and without even thinking it, and feeling almost appalled at himself for saying it, the words escaped his mouth. "And what do you need me for?"

"Are you kidding?" Murphy asked, incredulously. When Bellamy remained silent, he rolled his eyes. "You're Bellamy and Clarke. This is what you do."

Bellamy looked away. This was the third time she'd left him. First Mount Weather, then Polis, now here. For a moment, on Eligius, he thought that maybe they'd be okay after the fighting pits, that maybe they could move forward. But then she left again. How many times did she have to do that before he got the picture that she didn't want to see him? She needed him now, but only to tell him what the problem was before she inevitably found a way to fix it herself. He tried to steel himself to face her and fell short. "I trust you, Murphy. You two can handle it."

For a moment, even Murphy was left speechless. "You're serious."

He couldn't face her. He couldn't rid his heart of anger and loss and love. His heart - his heart - his heart - he was tired of the useless thing. But it was ruling him again, only this time it was worse. It was with his heart and not his head that he nodded and turned around. Still, as he heard Murphy's footsteps making their way towards the door he said, "Murphy?"

The footsteps stopped.

"Is she okay?"

Bellamy could almost see Murphy's face softening. "She's fine, man." And then Murphy was gone. And Bellamy was alone.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

By the time Murphy finally came out, Clarke was already growing restless with waiting. When she saw that Bellamy wasn't with him, though, her immediate thought was that something terrible must have happened, the threat of the Hexians all but forgotten. But Murphy wasn't frantic, he wasn't sad. If Clarke didn't know better, she would almost say that he looked angry. He strode straight over to Clarke, not sparing a glance at Raven and Emori who were watching him curiously out of earshot.

"Where is he? Murphy, what's wrong?" Clarke said, as soon as he came close.

Murphy smiled, but there was no humor in the grin. "Looks like it's just you and me, Griffin."

For a moment, she didn't understand what he was saying. Maybe she just didn't want to. "He's not coming?"

Murphy looked like he was about to make an excuse, maybe lie to her, maybe try and soften the blow. But he must have seen something in her face. Or maybe it was the last lingering traces of respect for her that their time on the ground had given him. Because what he finally settled on was a simple and honest, "No."

There would be time later to feel that pain, to try and hide it away with all the other scars on her heart. She knew from how badly it hurt now, that after everything they'd been through together, Bellamy didn't trust her, that it would hurt just that much more later. But maybe she didn't deserve his trust. She thought about leaving him in Polis. She never got to tell him she was sorry. Maybe she never would. And with that thought, Clarke realized she really never would unless she figured something out.

"We have to warn everyone. It's not safe here."

"Why?" Murphy asked. It was subtle, and it only came from knowing him so well, but Clarke saw him shift quickly back into survival mode. There would be one thing on his mind now, and that was good. It was good to have a cockroach on your team. Clarke just hoped it would be enough, because from the looks of this compound, it was going to be much harder to convince all of Eligius and all of Wonkru to leave if Bellamy wasn't with them to show them the way. Clarke realized she hadn't answered Murphy's question when he asked her again, "Why? Who's coming?"

"Not who," Clarke said. "What."

Murphy's face transformed into a familiar expression of dread. But that was okay, because Clarke Griffin already had a plan. And a plan B. And a plan C, but she hoped she wouldn't have to use it.

"Alright. What do we need to do?"

"We need to get everyone to leave," she said. It sounded simple when she said it out loud, but from the look on Murphy's face, it seemed like plan B might have to be used after all.


	7. Chapter 7

She started by telling Murphy everything. What had happened to her (leaving out the part where she'd almost died in the forest her first days alone), the people she had met, and the warning she had received. At the mention of the Hexians, he raised his eyebrows and said, "Aliens? Really?" but a look from Clarke silenced him.

"Okay," Murphy said after Clarke finished. "So what do we do?"

"We need to get everyone outside." The suns were almost completely down now. The day's work should be done and everyone would be inside, resting. They would need to get help rounding everyone up, though. Her eyes flitted nervously over to Raven and Emori. Both of them had problems with her and Clarke knew that. If Bellamy wouldn't help her, could she count on anyone else?

Murphy followed her gaze towards where they were sitting and immediately started heading towards them. Well, that put an end to Clarke's hesitation. She was hoping Murphy would break the ice, but it seemed like he was leaving that to her. There was so much unmasked resentment in their eyes. She'd just have to try and ignore it. "We need your help," she said, trying to sound confident.

They were silent for a moment, but Raven narrowed her eyes. "We?" Emori said, looking towards Murphy. He nodded, unhesitatingly. Clarke felt a quick rush of gratitude.

"So you forgive her now?"

"I didn't say that," Murphy said, just as quickly. Clarke ignored the brief stab of pain it offered. "But we need her to survive."

"That's funny. I'm pretty sure we've been doing just fine the past two weeks without her. Not to mention the six years before that," Raven said. Clarke winced.

"What do you need us to do?" Emori said, much to Clarke's surprise.

"Go get everyone to come gather by the lake. We'll take it from there."

Emori left, with one final wary look towards Clarke. It was clear that she trusted Murphy, not her. That was fine. As long as she got the job done. But Raven stayed firmly put, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go float yourself, Clarke. I don't take orders from you anymore."

Clarke recoiled as if she'd been punched. Murphy lingered a moment longer and then was gone, off to help Emori. Raven kept looking at Clarke until finally, Clarke felt brave enough to meet her old friend's gaze. She was almost surprised at what she saw. She was expecting blind hatred, anger, bitterness. Those feelings were there, but not as present as a heavy sadness and a sense of betrayal. But before the words, "I'm sorry," could come to Clarke's lips, Raven shook her head and walked in the other direction.

Leaving Clarke alone. Like she should be.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke scanned the crowd for Bellamy's face. She knew he wouldn't come out, or at least wouldn't let her see him if he did, but it was a reflex that she couldn't help. The crowd looked resentful, wary. Many of the faces were recognizable to her, but a lot weren't. Even fewer were the ones she'd known since living on the Ark, but there were some of them anyway.

Raven was sitting at a table facing away from Clarke, not far from where the crowd was gathered, but not exactly part of it. Clarke thought she saw a drink in her hand. So it seemed that her people had had time to raid Sanctum's liquor cabinet.

For a moment, just one, she felt hit by a wave of fear. It had been years since she had done this, since she had even tried. When had she last tried to mobilize a crowd, force them to act in the name of the greater good? She remembered Lexa's grounder army behind her, ready to follow her into bloody victory. She remembered trying to urge her people, back when her people consisted only of Skaikru, to help repair the Ark for Praimfaya. But really, she was thinking of a group of scared delinquents and a plan to run. Never had she felt more trusted, respected, and heard than when she was back there with them.

But of course, Bellamy was the one who had gotten them ready for battle. He was always so much better at this. He should be here, helping her, but she had too much pride and he had too much baggage, so Clarke was in this alone.

Well. Not quite alone. Murphy looked at her with one short nod, letting her know that this was everyone. It was good to have backup, even if her backup hated her guts. Could she do this? Could she rally an army behind her again? Maybe it was time to use Madi, the new commander. But Murphy said she was still in cryo, that they'd saved her for longer in case Clarke came back. She wasn't going to take her daughter out of a peaceful sleep until she knew it would be safe.

Clarke had the people's attention. If she waited any longer, she wouldn't. She tried to soothe her worries by telling herself that she didn't need an army this time; she just needed them to do what she said. Six years ago, that wouldn't have been so hard. Now, it was the only chance they had at survival. "I know that you feel safe here," she said, sounding as nervous as she felt. She cleared her throat, and her next sentence came out more smoothly. "I know that you're all tired of fighting. In the bunker. In the valley. In space. On earth. I am too." As she spoke, she looked searchingly into the faces, picking out specific ones. She glimpsed Miller, looking at her with what seemed like an open mind. If after all this time he still trusted her, then all was not yet lost.

"This compound has allowed us a few weeks of peace. But it doesn't belong to us," Clarke said, knowing that no one wanted to hear what she was saying, but gaining confidence as she continued all the same. "The people of Sanctum will come back at sunrise in two days."

"How do you know all this?" a voice from the crowd shouted, challenging her.

"Because for the past two weeks, I've been living with them." She opened her mouth to go on, but she was cut off by an Eligius prisoner.

"If this is their compound, then why aren't they here?"

This was it. If Clarke didn't sell this, then all of them were doomed. "A threat still looms here, triggered by the eclipse. Every year the people of Sanctum relocate until that threat is eliminated. But it awakens tomorrow."

"What awakens?" Another voice.

"Creatures that can kill with one touch. Creatures that cannot be easily destroyed. Which is why we have to go - all of us. _Now_." Her voice sounded as urgent as the situation requires. In the following moment of stunned silence, Clarke was sure she had them. But then, somebody laughed. No, not somebody. Raven.

"So we're just supposed to believe you?" she said, her words slurring ever-so-slightly, telling Clarke that she was good and drunk.

"Why would I lie?"

Raven got up. There were no lingering traces of respect or friendship left in her eyes, just hatred. Just hurt. Betrayal. Clarke probably deserved all that. But god, how she wished she could go back. She still remembered Raven instructing her through the floor, helping her save them all. She remembered a teary confession, and an "I'd pick you first." Did Raven remember that? Or did the memory of that only make Clarke's betrayal worse?

"I can think of a few reasons why you'd lie."

Clarke tried to keep her face stony, impassive. She had to maintain a strong front, or she'd lose everyone. "We don't have time for this. We need to go."

"No, Clarke. We were doing just fine before you got here. You know what I think?" Raven's voice was soft, but cutting. And everyone was dead silent to hear it.

"What?" Clarke said, hearing the beginning of tears in her voice and ignoring it. "What do you think, Raven?"

"I think you miss being in charge. I think you'd say whatever you have to just as long as we follow you again." She tried to brush past Clarke, but Clarke grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Hey. That's not what I miss." There was a flicker of doubt on Raven's face and Clarke knew most of her speech was coming from the liquor. But it had already taken effect on the crowd.

A voice she recognized only vaguely spoke up, sounding angry. "Creatures who can kill with one touch? That's shit from a fairytale. Why should we listen to you, Wanheda?" He spat out her title like it was a swear.

"Hey," Murphy said, "if there's any chance that it's true, shouldn't we listen?"

"Oh. So you've already converted some of us into followers again."

"This isn't a loyalty move," Murphy said. "It's a survivor's move. If you're survivors, too, then you'll listen to us."

But it was clear that no one wanted to listen to Murphy. They had long memories or little respect. Raven's words had come from a place of spite, but they were enough. The familiar voice spoke again, and the moment Clarke placed him was the same moment she realized that they'd lost. Hunter. From Mecca Station. "You want to be the savior of us all again, I get it. But my wife wasn't on your precious little list. She trusted you. I see no reason why we should trust you now."

"Because I'm trying to save your lives!" Clarke yelled, losing control of herself.

"No, you're not," Raven said, loudly this time. "You're trying to save what precious little is left of yours."

It was like a slap in the face, the realization that Raven knew that without Madi, Clarke would have nothing. She didn't have her people, or her friends. She might as well have died six years ago. Maybe she did die. Because that girl didn't exist anymore. Raven turned and walked away, not looking back once.

Hunter had one more thing to say, a sentiment Clarke had heard many times, and a sentiment that had killed many people. "If the people of Sanctum come back for their compound, just let them try and take it from us!" There was a chorus of cheers to that, but the vast majority stayed silent. Instead of forming around either Hunter or Clarke, the crowd started to disperse, and there were some faces who clearly believed her, but it had to be all of them. And it wasn't.

She couldn't save her people. She couldn't save anyone.

Murphy's face appeared in front of her suddenly, looking nervous. "Well, that could have gone better. What now?"

"I don't know," Clarke said, a plan formulating as she lied to him. "You should get some rest. As soon as I've got something I'll come get you."

He looked reluctant to leave but he listened. Clarke didn't need him to help her with this. She didn't know how sentient the Hexians were. She didn't know how dangerous it would be to kill them. But this, like all the other times she'd saved them, she would have to do alone. It was time for Plan C.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Being friends with Raven had given Clarke a lot over the years. A lot of pain, if she was being honest with herself. A lot of happiness, too. Clarke never felt more confident about anything than when she had Raven at her side. Right now though, she was alone. If she'd had Raven's help, she'd have been able to be sure she could pull this off.

But she still had her memories, and everything Raven had taught her. Namely, how to make a damn good bomb. Of course, if she fucked it up - well, she wouldn't. That wasn't an option. She'd grilled Elysia and Ezio for all the information they could give her on the Hexians. She knew where they hibernated. She knew that bullets couldn't kill them, but they did do damage. She knew that they hated fire. She knew that this was her best shot.

There were questions Clarke tried not to ask herself. Were they sentient? Could they feel pain? Could they feel love? Would she be doing anything other than angering them? And what right did she have to kill these creatures when the people of Sanctum had found another way that didn't include murder at all? But it all boiled to one answer, the same answer it had always been. If she didn't try, her people would perish. Maybe she didn't have their love anymore, but they had hers. And she couldn't let that happen.

It was dark in the cave. It sloped downwards. It was close to the compound, though. Would the Hexians awaken at her sound? Or was Elysia right and they would only awaken at sunrise the next morning? Clarke hoped that it was the second one. There were things hanging from the walls, the strange smell of pepper. Things that looked like boxes at her feet. She was careful not to brush up against these hanging things - were the Hexians like bats, sleeping upside down? She wasn't sure what the boxes were. She would get out her flashlight to check, but not only was that a risk, she was carrying the bomb. She didn't want to risk setting it off too soon, or worse, rendering it inert.

She knew the Hexians were down deep, so she walked for what felt like a long time. With a bomb of this force, if she built it right, the whole cave might come crashing down, which meant that she'd have to run fast. Clarke had been sick when Raven had built a bomb like this, a bomb that only required the help of a bullet to deploy. She was a good shot. And she had a lot of extra bullets. But it would be cutting it close. She felt a momentary rush of grief, like the kind she got every day for everyone she'd lost, when she thought of Jasper's triumphant look as he walked through the gates, having saved them all.

It was dark, pitch dark. The cave wasn't too large, but it was large enough. Yet there was something reflective in the not-so-far distance. Warily, Clarke approached. She almost touched it, before realizing what it was.

The Hexians had exoskeletons. That was why they were so hard to shoot. They almost looked like large bugs. Revulsion rushed through her, but it wasn't strong, and it wasn't crippling and it passed. She was here. It was now or never. Gingerly, she placed the bomb in the middle of the cave. The slight moonlight that had slipped through the darkness bounced off the exoskeletons. It was like she was in a scary movie, the kind that she'd used to watch with her dad on the Ark.

Clarke was used to fear. She knew how to be brave. Compared to pulling the lever at Mount Weather, or deciding not to run back to her friends during Praimfaya, this was nothing. She backed up, slowly, keeping an eye on the dim outline of the bomb. She backed up more, more, more, and then stopped. This was as far as she could go while making the shot. She could barely see it.

But she lined up her shot, like Bellamy had taught her all those years ago. She'd told him the feeling of pulling the trigger was amazing. It had been then. But it wasn't when you knew where the bullet would land. Clarke was a good shot now. She'd had to be. Through the viewfinder, she could barely see the bomb. But she could see it.

She fired. Nothing. She fired again. Nothing. But the creatures weren't waking up, so Clarke was taking that as a good sign. "Third time's the charm," she said to herself. Jasper had had three bullets. But he also had Monty. Clarke wished she had Monty right now. She didn't need him, though. She made the shot. No sooner had the bullet connected with the bomb than a fireball started roaring its way towards her.

For a moment, Clarke thought she was back there, back in Praimfaya, outrunning her death. She'd done it before. She'd do it again. The cave was starting to crumble. She was almost buried under the rubble that it was sure to leave behind. But the moon was there. Sanctum's moon. So far from the Earth's, but just as beautiful and bigger too. She could see.

The return of her vision was enough to push her faster. Any slower, and Clarke would have been trapped under there forever. But the universe knew as well as she did: Clarke Griffin was hard to kill. With one final leap, she made it to safety, just in time to watch the cave collapse in on itself. She was slightly burned, and definitely bruised, but she was alive. And she might have saved everyone.

Panting, she laid her head back on the ground behind her. She heard voices. People were coming out to see what had made that loud noise and that brilliant light that was now fading to orange embers. She'd have to answer to them, but for now, she would rest. Except, what was that smell? She thought for sure she must have been hallucinating.

Because Clarke could swear she smelled steak.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

For a long while, as people gathered, Clarke just laid there, exhausted, chest heaving. But it didn't take long before the sound of voices grew louder and louder and there were arms under her, heaving her up off the ground. Still feeling a bit dazed, she saw Murphy's face looking confused, worried, and angry at the same time. "What happened? Are you okay?" He looked behind her at the rubble - the only remnants of the burning cave. There was half of a realization on his face. "Clarke, what did you do?"

"What I had to." Ideally, that would have been the moment she pulled away from Murphy and brushed past him, but she was still feeling a little weak and his grip on her only tightened. Behind him she could see everyone gathering. Their faces looked monstrous in the moonlight. They sounded angry.

"I'm gonna need a little something better than that, Clarke." He sounded angry, too. "All of our supplies were in there. Everything from the Eligius ship. Everything we've hunted."

Clarke's stomach dropped. "I didn't know that."

"I'm gonna ask this one more time. What the fuck did you do?"

"That's where they sleep. That's where they hibernate. I had to kill them, Murphy, they would have killed all of us." Her voice sounded desperate. She was feeling pretty desperate. Murphy opened his mouth to respond, but he was torn off of her. Clarke's knees started to buckle, but strong arms roughly jerked her upright. Her strength regained when she realized who it was: Hunter.

He looked pissed. He didn't speak to her. He spoke to the crowd. "Wanheda is responsible for this." That was met with far more enthusiastic cheers than his earlier battle cry was. "And she needs to pay."

"You may not realize this," Clarke said, "but I just saved everyone in this compound."

"Really? I'm pretty sure that's what Octavia said when she burned the farm."

"It's nothing like that, listen -"

"She was trying to make us go to war. You're trying to make us leave. It doesn't seem that different to me."

"I was trying to save you, listen to me! Please!" But the crowd was too loud. No one could hear her. There were torches being lit now, and more faces were being revealed. Everyone was here. She couldn't see Bellamy or Raven. Murphy had been pushed back, but she could see his face, frightened and wary.

"We're not in that bunker anymore! Now, we can fight back." Hunter looked at the crowd, emboldened by their energy, hot blood running through his veins. Clarke had seen this before - too many times. "I say we float her!"

This was met by an immediate rush of cheers. All she could see was Murphy struggling against the crowd in vain before Hunter's heavy fist crashed into the side of her head, sending shooting stars across her vision. There were another set of hands on her now, and she couldn't move, not just because of the blow to the head. Everything felt like it was underwater, sounds were muffled. She definitely had a concussion.

By the time the world came back into clarity, there was a crate under her feet and a rope around her neck. It was just like being at the dropship again, when everyone thought they could still do whatever they hell they wanted. They all paid for that. Murphy had made sure of it. She found his stunned face in the crowd, looking at her in disbelief. She watched as he turned and ran the other direction.

She didn't blame him. She wouldn't want to watch this either. She zoned out while Hunter was ranting, giving another speech about right and wrong and ends and means and nothing Clarke cared about, nothing that mattered. After all these years, it was strange that this was how it ended, at the hands of her people she'd tried so desperately to save. In an odd way, it made sense.

That was the last thought she had before the crate was out from under her and she was suffocating. She'd seen death by hanging before. She knew it wasn't quick. It could have been hours she was hanging there, or seconds. She guessed it was shorter than it had felt by the time she was being cut down. She couldn't see by who. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, panting and wheezing, focused on nothing else but breathing and staying alive. She looked up once, only to see a dark ponytail disappearing into the crowd. Raven? Maybe. But that didn't seem right.

But the vague notion was interrupted by a very familiar voice. She didn't have the energy to move yet. The blow to the head, plus the explosion, plus the hanging had done quite the number on her. She'd been back for one night and this was what happened. But all thoughts left her head as Bellamy started speaking.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The sound of the explosion was so similar to the sounds in Bellamy's nightmare, that when he opened his eyes, he thought he was still dreaming. There was only silence outside. He almost went back to sleep. But then, he realized Echo had awoken too. Things had been strained between them the last few weeks, but they'd made it through worse before. Still, she was out the door without waiting for him to put his shoes on. She wouldn't have done that on the ring. For a moment, he wondered how terrible he would be if he just stayed put. He was so tired. In his sleep-addled state, it hadn't even crossed his mind that Clarke could be involved.

An accident. He was hoping that it was just an accident. Slowly, he laced up his boots. He put on a shirt. The sound of voices had grown louder now, and everyone was screaming. Not out of pain, or fear, it seemed. Something familiar, but maybe just as threatening. That got his blood pumping. He swung open the door, ready to take charge, but he was surprised when he found Murphy, hand raised in the air like he was about to knock.

"It's Clarke!" Murphy said, urgently, immediately raising Bellamy's heart rate ten times higher. "They're hanging her."

"What? Why?"

"We don't have time for this, come on!"

Bellamy didn't run faster than he'd ever run in his life. Rather, he ran just as fast as he'd run when he saw Clarke being kidnapped by Roan, when he realized that she was in danger on their way to the island, when he had to stop Dax from shooting her. He'd run that fast for her a hundred times over and he'd do it without thinking about it.

When he got there, after what could only have been seconds but still felt like too long, and saw her hanging, he thought he was going to be sick. But someone had come to her rescue before him. He'd recognize that ponytail anywhere. He watched as Clarke collapsed to the ground and fought the urge to run to her, see if she was okay. He heard her coughing, gasping, and he knew that she was breathing. That she would be alright. First, he had to make sure they weren't just going to string her up again. He had to, once again, talk a murderous mob into doing the right thing. Into being what Monty wanted. They had to be the best of humanity because they were the last of humanity.

His voice was loud and booming. The crowd instantly silenced. That was the power a leader had, whether they wanted it or not. "Can someone tell me what's going on here?"

Hunter opened his mouth to speak, but Bellamy raised his hand and silenced him. He was looking for smoke, and he spotted it, not too far in the distance. The cave that held all their supplies reduced to rubble. He felt a momentary burst of shock, but quickly suppressed it. He couldn't let them see his surprise. He could only let them see his strength. That hadn't been true with the hundred, but this crowd wasn't as forgiving as they were. They weren't made up of his friends. No one here loved him. He needed their respect.

"We are not on the Ark. And we're not in the bunker. We're not even on Earth anymore. We don't kill each other, and we especially don't kill our own people!" He was careful not to look at Clarke again. He knew that if he did that, he couldn't go on.

"We're talking about justice!" Hunter yelled back, striding into the center of the crowd to stand face to face with Bellamy.

Bellamy's voice was quieter now, but he knew everyone was listening. "No. You're talking about vengeance. And until you understand the difference between the two, we will never have peace. Now tell me," he said, looking away from Hunter and back toward the rest of the crowd, "what kind of world do you want your child to grow up in?"

He was met with silence. That was as close to a victory as he would get. "If anyone wants to attack Clarke, they're going to have to go through me. Is that clear?"

"So we just let her get away with it? That was everything we had!"

"We will deal with this in the morning. Don't make me cuff you, Hunter. I don't want to, but I will. I'm going to ask you one more time. Have I made myself clear?"

Slowly and reluctantly, Hunter nodded, glaring at Bellamy with a mixture of hatred and respect. That was a good combination as far as Bellamy was concerned. He waited a few moments while the crowd dispersed. Waiting to go to her just then felt like one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but it always felt like that, waiting for Clarke.

As soon as it was clear they were leaving, he looked back to her. She was still on the ground, on her hands and knees, facing away from him. After so long holding himself back, he went to her. "Clarke?" he said softly, touching her arm, making sure she was real and solid, making sure she wouldn't just disappear again. "Are you okay?"

She turned towards him. Her eyes widened as soon as she caught sight of him. "Your face," she whispered, reaching out her hand towards his cheek. He'd almost forgotten that his beard was gone. He must look like a ghost to her. Sometimes he looked like a ghost to himself whenever he caught a glimpse of his image in the mirror.

As her fingertips touched the skin just below his eyes, Bellamy winced and pulled away. He couldn't take this. He couldn't do this again. "What did you do?" he said. He helped her to her feet, ignoring the look of hurt in her eyes, ignoring that it was his fault. "Clarke, what did you do?"

"I had to stop them," she said. There was a terrible moment of silence when she realized what he was saying. "Tell me you believe me." He said nothing. "Bellamy."

He spoke slowly. They both could tell that each word was hurting him. "I believe you thought you were saving us. But you were out there alone for a long time, Clarke. You can't just come in and do whatever you think you have to at the expense of everyone else. It's not six years ago."

She recoiled at his words. But her face hardened into a familiar expression."Six years ago you would have trusted me." He tried not to look away, but he couldn't keep facing her. "I wouldn't have had to do this if you had just trusted me. You wouldn't even see me!"

"You left me!" Bellamy yelled, finally exploding. They were alone, they were face to face, and they were mad and heartbroken, and they missed each other and they hated each other. And they'd been here before. "You left me again, Clarke. I get the message now. You can tell me you need me, but I think we both know that's not true."

Clarke's eyes were shining with unshed tears. But Bellamy knew she wouldn't let them fall. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who said you didn't need me anymore." He didn't think she'd go there, use what he'd said while trapped in a psychosis against him. He knew his eyes were shining too. "I left because I thought I was doing what was best for everyone."

"Is that what you were thinking when you left me to die in the fighting pits?"

Clarke took a shaky breath. It took Bellamy a second to realize that she was angry. "Do you think I would have left you if it weren't for Madi?"

Bellamy shook his head. He didn't understand. "What?"

"I had to get out of Polis or Octavia would have killed her. She tried to have us killed as she sent us away. And you had just put the chip in Madi's head. I had to save her." She closed her eyes. It seemed like she was in pain. "I'm sorry. If I could go back, I would have stayed. I can never change what I did. But Madi was all I had left."

Bellamy wanted to say, _you still had me_. But that would have been a lie, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it still be a lie? That realization made him so sad he felt like he could barely stand under the weight of it. "Why did you blow up our supplies?"

Clarke didn't look angry anymore. Just tired. "That was where they were hibernating. I didn't know your supplies were down there. I couldn't just let you die. You can hate me if you want, but I'd do it again."

There was so much Bellamy still wanted to say to her, but before he got the chance, she turned and walked away, towards the rubble. He wanted to get her checked out by Jackson at least. He wanted to finish their conversation. But maybe she was leaving again. Maybe he should let her go this time. He afforded himself one last look at her retreating form.

Just the fact that she was alive was a miracle in and of itself. He had to hold onto that, even if he was losing his grip on everything else.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The sun was about to rise. No one had gone back to bed, least of all Clarke. Everyone was milling around, breaking off into their previous divisions. Any semblance of unity was gone now. Murphy was sitting next to Clarke, watching the cave from a distance. "Do you think they're dead?" he said, looking at her.

"I don't know. I hope so. I'd feel better if we all left anyway." She was quiet for a moment. "Thank you for helping me. Maybe someday we can be friends again." She didn't look at him as she said this. She was scared of what she might see in his expression,

But Murphy just laughed. "Again? Remind me when we were friends before?"

It took a second for Clarke to realize that he was joking. But it didn't feel like just a joke. It felt like a peace offering; it felt like he was reaching out a hand. And Clarke laughed, taking it.

"I'm gonna go find Emori. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." She watched as Murphy disappeared. Looking behind her, she saw him head toward her friends. Raven. Bellamy. Miller. Jackson. People she still loved. People she would always love. Closer to her was Hunter, surrounded by people she was sure were plotting her death. If the bomb really did work, and the Hexians weren't coming out, then she wondered what would happen to her. Then, she reminded herself that there was only one day until Elysia came back with her people. What would happen to all of them? Another war?

Clarke was so busy looking behind her that she didn't see the suns finally peeking over the horizon. And she didn't see the light it cast on the cave. And she definitely didn't see a clawed hand reaching out from under the rubble.

In fact, no one saw it. But they would see the creatures that emerged. And no one would think Clarke was lying then.


	8. Chapter 8

For Bellamy, like during every crisis, things seemed to unfold in slow motion and high speed at the same time. Clarke had been keeping vigil by the cave in a way that was making Bellamy uneasy. He didn't want to believe in this threat. He didn't want to confront his own failure in stopping it, the truth that he'd stopped listening to his head the second Clarke left again. The truth that when she needed him, he'd turned his back on her.

Mostly, he just wanted time with her. Time to finally say everything that needed to be said. Time that they had never had. He was thinking about this when he heard the first scream. Everyone's heads turned towards the source. With dread in the pit of his stomach, Bellamy watched as the Hexians emerged. Except they were different than Clarke described. They weren't fast, and they didn't look strong. It took him a beat too long to realize that they were injured, that Clarke's bomb had done the job. There were cracks in their exoskeletons, and only three of them had crawled out. Bellamy hoped to god there weren't more.

"Clarke!" he called out, realizing she had vanished from where he had just seen her. Everyone was yelling now, most were running away. Most. But not all. He remembered what she'd said - that they could kill with one touch. They were large, and still on the slow side, but they were fast enough to kill at least a handful of them if they didn't do something quick. He yelled her name again, but no one could hear over the screams.

Except for one voice. And this time, people made sure to listen. "Don't get too close!" he heard her saying, still standing far too near to the creatures than he was comfortable with. "Shoot between the cracks or the bullets will ricochet!"

Most of his people were unarmed. Most of them hadn't believed her. But now? Bellamy caught a glimpse of Hunter out of the corner of his eye. Hunter was many things. Angry, impulsive, even cruel. Grieving, lost, helpless. But amongst all of these, a shining trait still stood out. As long as Bellamy had known him, Hunter had been brave.

He was striding up to the monsters - he'd never been good at shooting from a distance. Miller on the other hand, had already taken one out, and Bellamy had put a bullet in the second one, but it took another one to put it down. By the time he'd turned his attention to the final monster, it was already too late.

Hunter was right in front of it, aiming a gun between one of his cracks. He was so focused on killing it, that he didn't notice the mutilated tendril reaching towards him. But someone noticed it. Of course she did. Once again, Bellamy was watching something that he couldn't stop. Clarke shoved Hunter out of the way, and almost dodged the stinger. But she didn't dodge it. The scream of pain that erupted from her was one Bellamy knew would haunt his nightmares until he died. Someone put a final bullet in the monster as Clarke fell to the ground, too quickly for Bellamy to catch her. But he was running for her anyway, not caring if it got him killed too.

The Hexians killed with one touch. That was what she'd said. But it was like a prayer was answered when he saw her chest rising up and down, albeit shallowly. He hovered above her, taking her face in his hands. Her eyes were open and she was looking at him, confused. "Bellamy?" she said, and it came out in a faint whisper.

"You're gonna be okay. You're okay," he said, as if saying it would make it true.

She didn't look less confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Clarke…"

"You're supposed to be on the rocket. Why aren't you on the rocket?" she whispered, eyes searching his face frantically. He didn't know what to do, or what to say.

All he knew was that he had to do whatever he could to take her pain away. It didn't matter what kind of pain that was. "I made it, Clarke. You already saved me."

The look of relief on her face was instant, but he could tell she was still in pain. "Okay," she whispered. But what scared him the most was that she seemed suddenly resigned. Was this how she looked when the rocket took off?

He was overwhelmed by panic. There were voices and bodies all around him, but none of it was in focus except for her dying face. "You can't die, Clarke. I haven't forgiven you yet," he tried, knowing that it was a lie, that he had forgiven her the moment she'd hurt him because he didn't know how not to.

"That's okay," she said, eyes unfocused now. "You can hate me. You can hate me forever, Bellamy. I did my job."

She looked at him, one final staggering moment of connection and clarity, of respect and love, of longing and desire, of regret and betrayal. And then her eyes closed and everything in Bellamy's world fell silent.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

After someone dies, a moment comes when you realize all the things you will never be able to put right with them. They can be simple. They can be as simple as the desire to thank Sinclair for all he had done right for Bellamy's people. They can be confused like the desire to tell Lexa just what her abandonment on that mountain had done to his people. They can be futile like his desire to help Jasper when no one could have helped Jasper or small like his wish to say goodbye to Monty even though he already knew everything Bellamy could have ever wanted to tell him. They can be as heavy as wishing that person had never died at all and knowing he could have stopped it, like Lincoln. And they can be everything: all the things he'd never gotten to say to Clarke after Praimfaya, all the things she would never know.

After all the people he'd lost, you'd think that Bellamy would have learned to minimize his regrets in any way he could. But once Clarke stopped moving in his arms, he realized in a painful flash that all he'd done was add to them. They killed with one touch. That was what he knew. For a long, long moment, he thought she was dead. All the Hexians had been killed, no one else had been hurt.

No one except for the one person who had done everything she could to save them. But no one had listened. Everyone was silent. Bellamy felt like they were on the precipice of something, about to cross another line, another chapter in their history that they wouldn't want to look at it. But the first sound to break the silence was a scream. "Jackson!" Murphy yelled.

And with that, everyone roared to life again. Bellamy remained frozen, holding her. Wishing she'd move. Wishing she'd say something. But Murphy was at Bellamy's side, shoving him gently, or as gently as Murphy knew how, saying that they needed to get her help. "Jackson's setting up a med station, can you get her there?"

"She said they killed with one touch." Bellamy's voice came out hoarse, stunned. No tears had formed yet. He wondered if he was in some state of shock. It was one thing to leave Clarke on Earth in Praimfaya. It was another thing to hold her in his arms as she died.

But Murphy, luckily, had managed to keep his head. "Look at its stinger. It's injured. See?" Bellamy tore his eyes away from Clarke, looking towards where Murphy was pointing. Sure enough, it was burnt, half torn off. Clarke's bomb had done a number on it. "Fall apart later, Bellamy. She needs you right now."

She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. Last time, he hadn't come through for her. Hell, more than just last time. He hadn't come through since he'd set foot on that rocket and left her behind. But he could do this. He could take her in his arms and carry her to Jackson. He could make sure she didn't go through this alone, even if she didn't make it through at all.

Last time, he had to leave. This time he would stay with her. No matter what the consequences.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It took two hours before any information could be reached. Bellamy didn't leave her side the entire time. Whatever venom the Hexians carried in their stingers was as alien to Jackson as the Hexians themselves. He didn't know of any antidote, any way to stop its spread. He didn't know anything at all. He just did what he usually did when there were toxins running through someone's system.

He put Clarke on dialysis and hoped for the best, but it was with a pale face that he told everyone her systems were slowly shutting down. He said that it was moving slower than most poisons, but it was moving, and without any knowledge of the Hexians there was nothing he could do to stop it. Their only chance was waiting for the people of Sanctum to return. Their knowledge was the only thing that could save her.

That was, assuming she survived until tomorrow's sunrise.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

For a long time, every sound in the room was just white noise in Bellamy's ears. Emori had taken the liberty of organizing the crowd outside, getting everyone to either go to work or stay in. Their focus needed to be on Clarke, because Clarke's focus had been on all of them. It was clear that if she hadn't blown up the cave, supplies and all, it would have been a massacre. Yet somehow, she was the only one paying the price.

Well. Not the only one. It felt like agony to sit by her side. This was the third time in Bellamy's life that he had stood by Clarke and waited for her to wake up. First was the day Finn died and she was attacked by a grounder in the woods. The way his stomach dropped upon seeing her in Finn's arms, the way he could only think about the sound of her voice, the indignant look she'd get in her eyes when she was fighting with him, and his desperation on seeing it again. That was all new to him. He should have known then that he loved her. Maybe a part of him had. And he managed to feel all of that while knowing she would be okay.

He didn't know anything when she was fighting to save them from the City of Light. But he knew he trusted her to get the job done. He knew that he would have done anything to keep her safe, and not just because she was their last chance for salvation.

And now, here he was, and all those feelings were mingled inside of him, overwhelmed by the greater feeling of guilt and regret. She had to get better. The people of Sanctum had to help her. There was no other option. He was transfixed by her, watching her grow paler, watching her chest rise up and down, just to make sure that she was breathing, as if she'd stop if he took his eyes off of her for a second. Murphy had to say his name three times before Bellamy could pay attention.

"What?" he said, sounding impatient and gruff, and not really caring.

Jackson was the one to speak. "We think we should wake up Madi."

Bellamy was quiet for a long moment. "Why?"

Jackson, Miller, and Murphy, the only ones in the room, looked vaguely uncomfortable at the question and the answer they would have to give. Miller was the one to speak. "Because if Clarke doesn't make it, she should be here. She would want to be here."

"No," Bellamy said automatically. "We wake her up when her mother is better. That's what Clarke would want." There must have been something final in his tone, because none of them argued the point. Murphy just nodded and left. Jackson and Miller lingered around for a while after, but Bellamy didn't move from his seat by Clarke's side.

Jackson checked her vital signs again. Bellamy searched his face for a sign of hope or optimism, but it remained impassive. He sighed, looking directly at Bellamy. Even now, when Bellamy felt all but useless and barely able to concentrate, he was still their leader. "I'm going down to the cave to see if I can find any salvageable supplies. There was medicine down there."

Bellamy just nodded. "It could be dangerous, I'll go with you," Miller said. They lingered a moment, maybe expecting Bellamy to say something. But he said nothing, so they left. Leaving him all alone with Clarke for the first time since she was stung.

She was pale, but other than that she looked okay. It was funny. When Bellamy had nightmares about her dying after Praimfaya, she was always covered in boils and burns. If he didn't know any better, he would say she was sleeping. But he knew that if she didn't make it, she wouldn't look like that anymore. Dead people never looked like they were asleep, no matter what the books and movies said.

He closed his eyes. For one painful moment, it felt like he was back on that rocket again. Except instead of just leaving her to die, he knew that it was his fault she was dying in the first place, that he could have done something to stop it. And his pride got in the way. No, not his pride, he could almost hear Clarke saying. His heart.

He took her hand in his, trying to ignore how unresponsive and heavy it felt. It hadn't felt like that before. He pressed it to his lips and then to his forehead. "I'm sorry," he gasped, almost shocked by the strength of his emotion. "I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He sat there, eyes closed, whispering apologies like they were prayers when he felt her fingers tighten against his.

"Bellamy," she murmured, still sounding in pain.

He looked up, eyes wide, heart pounding with hope. "Clarke? Can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered open, but she still looked confused. They wouldn't focus on him. "I have to warn Bellamy," she said, and she wasn't looking at him, even as he placed a hand on her cheek. "Dax has a gun, I have to tell him."

"Clarke," Bellamy said, in a tone of voice as unfamiliar to himself as it must have been to her, but no sooner had her name come out of his mouth than her eyes closed again. Her hand was still in his. The moment felt long but wasn't while he waited to see if she would wake up again. When she didn't, he screamed as loud as he could for Jackson.

Murphy was the first one in. Everyone in camp could probably hear Bellamy's yell. But before Murphy could say anything, Jackson and Miller raced in behind him. "What?" Jackson said, frantic, checking Clarke's vital signs again. "What is it?"

"She woke up," Bellamy said, running a hand through his hair.

Jackson didn't seem phased. He kept working as he asked, "Was she lucid?"

With a sinking heart, Bellamy said, "No, she wasn't. But that's a good sign, isn't it?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. She's delirious. I don't think it means anything. Her vitals are the same." Then he frowned. "Worse, actually."

"What do you mean worse?" Jackson had a vial of medicine. He was ignoring Bellamy and injecting Clarke with something. "What is that? What are you giving her? What does it do?"

Jackson sighed. "Not much." He looked at Bellamy. His expression seemed sorry yet frank at the same time. "I can't do anything to save her. I'm just trying to keep her stable until sunrise tomorrow. That's all I can do." Then he turned around and got back to work.

Bellamy reeled back, feeling the pain of that truth, realizing for the first time, that this might be the exception to the rule, the rule being of course, that Clarke always made it out. No matter what happened to anyone else, she made it.

He'd lived in a world without her. He didn't want to do it again. He turned on his heel and all but ran out of the room, past people staring at him, past questioning eyes. All the way to the lake, and he fought the desire to throw himself in. His feet were still moving when a voice, out of breath, reached him. "You know I'm getting really tired of trying to get you and Clarke to stop running from all your problems. I'm not really good at the whole moral support thing if you haven't noticed."

"Shut up, Murphy," Bellamy said and kept moving.

"What, you think the woods will make you feel better than the compound?"

Bellamy whirled around, glad to have a target for his anger. He shoved Murphy, who wasn't expecting to be pushed. He stumbled, but kept his footing. Bellamy didn't feel sorry. "I said leave me alone."

"You can't just run away because you're sad. She needs you." And after a beat, Murphy said, "You need her too."

Bellamy shook his head, every inch of him rejecting the weight of that truth. "No, I don't." Murphy said nothing, but in his silence, Bellamy could hear an accusation. "I can't need her," he said, sounding pathetic, but there it was.

Murphy looked at him, not unkindly, but he wasn't going to lay off. "Why?"

Bellamy thought of the ring, that terrible first year, the nightmares that never stopped plaguing him. But then he thought of Echo. He thought of laughing over Monty's algae. He thought of movie nights. The first day no one mentioned Clarke at all and life continued as normal. He thought of happiness and peace, things that he had experienced for maybe the first time. He had never stopped missing her. He had never stopped grieving her. But he had lived. So he answered Murphy with a truth that scared him. "Because if you need something and you lose it and you're able to go on living, maybe you never really needed it in the first place."

Murphy was quiet again. He seemed to be contemplating something, and Bellamy was sure that he was just thinking up another exasperated comeback. But then he said very quietly, "I needed my mom." Bellamy felt his breath stop for a moment out of anticipation or maybe fear. Murphy never talked about his parents. Never. "I needed my mom," he said again, "and then she drank herself to death. So I came to Earth and murdered two kids. There are parts of me that don't work, Bellamy. There are parts of me that are just broken."

Bellamy shook his head, wanting to say that that wasn't true, but he saw it. Mainly in little ways, but mostly in the way that Murphy never believed anyone could protect him except for himself. Not even the people he loved. Murphy took a deep breath, as if he was letting go of the magnitude of that statement. Then he went on. "After we got on the ring, you were different. You stopped making your big speeches for one thing, which was honestly a bit of a relief. But then you stopped making jokes. And you wouldn't talk to us about what was going on with you, even after you woke us up screaming from a nightmare. There would be days when all you talked about was which systems needed maintenance. What is it Clarke told you? That you had to think with your head?"

Numbly, Bellamy nodded.

"It was like that was all you would do."

Hearing his own pain laid out like this, his own life really, was exhausting. "So what are you saying? That I'm broken too? That I can't be fixed?"

Murphy shook his head, an almost wondrous look on his face, like he really couldn't believe that Bellamy still didn't get it. "No, dumbass. I'm saying that when we came back to Earth and Clarke was miraculously alive, you were handed a chance to heal in a way you never could have before. We don't all get that. So it would be nice if you'd stop pissing that chance away."

He was quiet for a long moment. A moment he thought would never end. And then he finally said what they'd both been thinking. "What if she doesn't make it? What if she doesn't make it and I have to watch this time?"

Murphy was silent. Then, the ghost of a smile flickered on his face and Bellamy knew what he was going to say before he said it. "What would Clarke do?"

Bellamy nodded, feeling unable to speak, those words familiar and wistful and painful. Mostly, he felt grateful for his friend, grateful that he didn't back off even though Bellamy had wanted him to, grateful that he had paid attention. He started preparing himself to go back in, to see it through, even if it meant watching her die. Because she would do it for him, even if it killed her. He knew that much.

"You going back?" Murphy asked, seeing Bellamy's decision in his face.

"What do you think?"

"Good." But then Murphy furrowed his brow, seeming to realize something right at that minute. "Hey, when was the last time you saw Raven?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

After spending six years with someone, you get to know them pretty well, so it made sense that Raven was in the first place Bellamy checked: Sanctum's workshop. As he approached, he heard sparks flying and a strained "Dammit!" coming from inside, a sound he was used to hearing. The quiet sobs that followed, not so much.

They had all been a family, but Raven had often been alone on the Ark. He felt her pulling back within the first few months, and part of him thought of doing something to stop that, but he was already so trapped inside his useless head and his broken heart that the effort seemed insurmountable. By the time he'd cleaned himself up, Raven was closed off as ever. She'd lost Finn on the ground, and then Sinclair. Luna and Wick and Jasper had gone after, and Clarke's death was the big finale. Raven had suffered at least as much as any of them, if not more. Bellamy knew she had bad days, he knew she cried like the rest of them, but she did it alone.

He had Echo, Monty had Harper, Murphy had Emori, and Raven had any of them if she'd wanted to let them in, but not in the way they had each other. Then she found Shaw. It didn't take long for that to get ruined too. If she knew he was out here, she wouldn't let him hear her cry. For a moment, he considered leaving her in the privacy of her grief.

Instead, he opened the door and went inside. She was sitting at the desk, surrounded by clutter that Bellamy was sure meant something important. Her head was in her hands and she was crying. At the sound of his footsteps, she stopped abruptly. In a thick voice, she said, "Go away, Bellamy."

"I wouldn't say that again if I were you. I'm in the mood to listen," he said. And it was true. He felt so smothered under the weight of his own worry that he had no clue how to take care of someone else. But that was what you did for people you loved, even if it was all you could do: you tried.

"How is she?" she said, still not meeting his eye.

"I don't know," Bellamy lied, but Raven heard the truth in his voice. She finally looked up at him, and Bellamy was surprised to see a kind of sad smile.

"Do you remember on the ring when Monty accidentally wiped two months worth of coding just to pull up some old movies?"

In spite of himself, Bellamy laughed a little bit. Of course he remembered. It was like a dark cloud followed Raven wherever she went. Monty was scared shitless. "Yeah. I remember."

"And I didn't talk to him for six weeks," she said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Bellamy moved closer to Raven until he was standing right next to her. He didn't say anything. He just let her speak. "I guess I forgot what it was like on the ground. I thought that I'd have time." Bellamy ached with the word, something that he'd never had enough of until he was drowning in it. "Time to forgive her, time for her to make it up to me. Time to get over it. Because I'm still so fucking mad that she teamed up with McCreary. We all could have died."

"She saved us in the end."

Raven laughed bitterly. "Of course she did. That's what she does." Then she shrugged. "I thought we'd have time to move past it. But now…" Her voice broke off as she started crying again, and Bellamy did the only thing he could think of doing. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight as if that was the same as holding her together. And if a few tears of his own slid down his face and onto her shoulder, she was kind enough not to say anything.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

So there he was again, at Clarke's side. This time he'd see it through until the end. There was no rocket to take him away. There would be no surprise finish. Whatever happened would happen. And he'd be at her side through it all.

Despite everything, though, he found himself starting to drift off a little. He must have completely nodded off because before he knew it someone was gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open to find Echo standing above him, her face as stoic as ever. But he knew her well enough to read something in it. And if he wasn't sure, he could hear the confirmation in her voice. "We need to talk."

He knew what talk was coming. Still, he said, "Is now a good time?"

"Now is the only time," she said, and not completely unkindly either. She pulled up a chair, sitting a few feet away from him. She looked him plainly in the eye. Never one to shy away, never one to avoid a fight, never one to run when things got hard. That was why he'd fallen in love with her. That was part of it at least.

"Echo…" he said, and found that he could not go first. She must be the one to begin.

"You saved my life," she said. Not with trembling emotion, but merely stating a fact. "I will always love you. And you will always love her." Another fact.

"Hey. Don't do this. We can talk later, after Clarke wakes up," he said, in a desperate effort to try and save her from pain that she was already familiar with.

And the first flicker of sorrow showed up on her face. "Bellamy, I know no other way of showing you kindness than to let you go right now." She got up to leave. She was never one to waste words. Bellamy grabbed her arm before she could escape.

"We will always be family, Echo. Always."

Her smile was not entirely without sadness. Bellamy liked to think there was some relief in it too. "Damn right we will." A phrase she had borrowed from him. A sign that they had known each other, that they had loved each other, and that they had loved each other well. Bellamy knew that if the worst came, she would be there in his grief. She would not shy away from the weight of it. She had already helped him carry it for years.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

As if sensing that she and Bellamy were alone, Clarke's eyes fluttered open again. This time, only for a few tense moments. "They're draining them," she said, voice thick with fear. "They're already draining them. We have to stop them."

"You did stop them, Clarke. You saved everyone you could," Bellamy said, but her eyes were sliding shut again, leaving him alone.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke's hand was wrapped tightly in Bellamy's as Jackson checked her vitals again. Again, Bellamy's eyes were on his face. Again, he paled at what he saw. Jackson looked at Clarke, closing his eyes tightly in the briefest glimpse of pain, then looked at Bellamy frankly. "She's worse. At this rate, we'll be lucky if she makes it to midnight."

Midnight. Six hours from now. Bellamy's heart was sinking down down down, through his feet, under the floor, burying itself in the earth where it could not be easily retrieved again. He said nothing. No words seemed useful, or even possible. He remembered what it was like after Praimfaya, how the worst part was the days of silence, of questions left unanswered, of responses never heard. He remembered imagining what she'd say to Raven's frustrations, Murphy's jokes, hearing her voice so easily and then living through it slowly being drowned out by time and silence.

"Bellamy!" Miller's voice echoed loudly from outside. "We've got company."

He didn't want to leave Clarke, but he wasted no time in holstering his gun and stepping out. But what he saw wasn't a new threat, no enemy to fight or hide from. What he saw was Clarke's last chance for salvation come early. Just as the suns were setting.

A girl with shiny dark hair and smooth brown skin, a body that showed signs of love and upkeep and health in a way that shocked Bellamy for a moment, made his way directly towards him, her eyes searching the crowd for something. She had one question to ask. "Where's Clarke?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Her name was Elysia. She and Clarke had been friends. The people of Sanctum had heard the explosion, seen a flash of brilliant light, and elected to send a large group of their people home before sunrise, after the threat of the Hexians should have passed. They arrived as the sun was setting. They hadn't come out anger or fear. They came because Clarke had told them about her people, and they wanted to make sure everything was okay.

Of course, almost everything was okay, except for one very important thing. "I'm sorry that we moved in. We thought this place was abandoned," Bellamy said as he stood with Elysia next to Clarke's bedside.

Her touch was soft and gentle on his arm. "Never mind that now. What happened to Clarke?"

Bellamy wondered if his voice would fail him, but it came out surprisingly steady. "She was stung by one of the Hexians."

Elysia's face blinked in shock. "How is she still alive?"

"Its stinger was injured. Burnt off on one side. Can you help her? Do your people know anything about their venom?"

Her hesitation to respond was answer enough, but Bellamy needed to hear her say it before she believed it. "Death by Hexian sting has always been immediate. We never had any reason to find an antidote."

It felt like someone had squeezed all the air out of his body. He collapsed heavily in the chair. After everything they'd been through, this was the end of the line? She'd survived an apocalypse, but a sting would be enough to kill her? It would almost be funny if it wasn't so heartbreaking. "Is there nothing we can do?"

"I'm sorry." Elysia's mouth was still slightly open, showing clear surprise and dismay. Bellamy vaguely realized that the people of Sanctum must not be used to death and destruction.

"Anything?" he heard himself, his voice ragged and thick with tears. "No matter what it is. Is there anything we can try to save her?"

Elysia shook her head. "I don't…" But then she stopped, biting her lip. Furrowing her eyebrows. Bellamy saw this expression on Monty and Raven's faces many times. It was the face of realization, of another way when they were sure they'd exhausted all other options.

"What? What is it?"

"It's dangerous. It hasn't been tried in over a decade."

"I don't care. If there's a chance, we have to try it."

"You don't understand. It didn't work the last time. It almost never works."

"Elysia, please tell me."

She sighed, either resigning herself or bracing herself. "You could take her to the Anomaly."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Elysia spent five minutes explaining and Bellamy still didn't understand exactly what the Anomaly was. Raven, Murphy, Jackson and Miller were all in the room. Everyone he needed to be there. The thing was, the Anomaly was essentially a legend. "Almost everyone who goes in doesn't come out. The last time someone did was long before I was born. It's too risky."

Bellamy didn't like the sound of Clarke never coming out, but he would do anything - _anything _\- to keep her alive. "We have to try it."

"The thing is, you can't just leave her there. She has to walk in."

"I don't know if you noticed," Murphy started, "but she's not exactly in a position to do that."

"She has to walk in," Elysia repeated. "Or…" Her eyes flickered nervously to Bellamy.

He finished her thought. It was the first thing all day that felt right, that made sense. With a kind of certainty, Bellamy said, "Or I could carry her."

"No," Raven said immediately, eyes wide. "We're not losing both of you."

"You're not losing either of us if this works."

"That's a big if."

"She'd do it for me, Raven. She'd do it for you too."

Raven laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Bellamy was tired of humorless laughs. "You wouldn't let her."

He knew that was true too. "I wouldn't be able to stop her. And you can't stop me." They held each other's gazes for a long moment and understanding passed between them. Between all of them. Bellamy took a deep breath before looking at Elysia. "How far is it?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

A man named Ezio led him there. All his friends followed him. Bellamy and Clarke would go in alone, but they would all make this last trip together. Clarke was cradled in his arms like a princess. She felt heavy and lifeless. But she wasn't. He didn't know what would happen to them when they set foot inside this mystery. But he knew that they would be together, like they should be. And if that meant he never came out, then he made his peace with that. He'd let her go once before. He had no choice then. But now he could do something about it. He owed it to her - he owed it to himself to try.

As they neared the Anomaly, Clarke stirred in his arms. The sun had gone down, but Bellamy could see a glowing green light in the distance. It scared him. It awed him. It was beautiful and he was still far away. When he looked down at Clarke, her eyes had a sense of lucidity. "What are you doing?" she said, weakly.

"What you would do." He wondered if she knew how important those words were to him. How that sentiment had all but saved his life.

"Don't be stupid, Bellamy. Please." A tear slipped down the side of her face and splashed on Bellamy's hand. He wondered if somehow she knew where he was going, what he was doing for her, the sacrifice he was gladly making. But as he approached the Anomaly, only feet away from it now, her eyes shut again and he knew it was now or never. She didn't want him to be stupid, but he wanted her to live. Unfortunately, those desires conflicted. And Bellamy's was stronger.

But, wow. Face to face with the Anomaly, he would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. He turned around, looking at all of his friends standing in a row. Jackson. Miller. Emori. Echo. Raven. Murphy. He saw tears glimmering in their eyes and knew that his own eyes were shiny too. Raven bit a trembling lip and said, looking up at the green glow, "I wish Monty were here to see this."

He closed his eyes. He felt that loss right now. He could almost see them, Monty and Harper, standing side by side. Saying goodbye. Saying they were proud. Saying thank you. Just like he was saying to all of his friends.

Bellamy caught Echo's smiling eye and knew the words that he wanted to leave with them. In case he didn't come back. And in case he did. "We'll always be family. All of us."

He turned to go in, preparing himself for that damning step when Miller's shaky voice sounded behind him. "In peace, may you leave the shore."

"In love," Raven said, almost smiling, "may you find the next."

"Safe passage on your travels," Jackson said softly.

"Until our final journey to the ground," Murphy said without the slightest hint of irony or humor in his voice. As earnest as Bellamy had ever heard him sound.

He knew he was supposed to finish it. He felt the history pulsing between himself and the people in front of him, years of love and pain and trying their best. And it was with the knowledge that if he ever made it out of the Anomaly, it would be in a world of peace, and it would be with Clarke, that let him say, "May we meet again."

"Damn right we will," Emori said, grinning. They were all grinning. They were all beautiful. He took one last look at them, at the people he loved so dearly, then down at the girl he loved enough to go to hell for, and with one deep breath, stepped into the Anomaly and its effervescent light.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

He thought he was ready. He felt brave when he did it. But the moment he was completely submerged, he found himself in a void of nothing, darkness as far as he could see. And Clarke disappeared from his arms in a shimmer of green light. "No," he whispered frantically. "No, that wasn't the deal," he said, as if there had ever been a deal, ever been a guarantee. As if it was impossible that he might be trapped in this darkness alone forever.

He fell to his knees, feeling at the depths of his despair, feeling the long-suppressed tears coming now in full force. But they stopped at the sound of a radio turning on in the distance. He turned his head towards the sound and there was a not so far off square of light.

And coming from it, he heard a weak voice, crying. A voice he would know anywhere. A voice he'd heard in his dreams for six years. "Bellamy? Can you hear me? Did you make it? Did I get the power on?"


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Clarke could register was the cold kiss of metal against her cheek. At first, she felt too weak to even open her eyes. What had happened? Where was she? She was trying to remember. It came in pieces. Sanctum. The eclipse. Elysia. The Hexians. The cave. Bellamy - Bellamy looking like her old Bellamy. Bellamy breaking her heart. And then - she'd failed. She remembered that she'd failed, and the Hexians had come anyway.

Hunter, storming up to one of them, she remembered that. Because she remembered diving for him. Knocking him to the ground. And then, that was where things got hazy. She remembered pain. She was stung. She must have been stung. Which meant that she must be dead.

Clarke opened her eyes. There was a familiar sound, a sort of hum, that she couldn't exactly place. It was so familiar that it had taken her all these moments to notice. But once she opened her eyes, she knew exactly what it was. The machine hum of the Ark. Well, if she was dead, then she was definitely in hell.

But there were fragments of other moments that she couldn't exactly place. Bellamy was in all of them. His husky voice saying he was sorry over and over. The feel of his hand in hers. She remembered being held by him, feeling safe somehow, and yet scared. But she couldn't place the source of that fear. She remembered a green light, a really beautiful green light. But Hexian stings were immediately fatal, that was what Elysia had said, so none of that could be true. She had to be dead.

But it had felt so real. For half of a moment, Clarke wondered if Bellamy had done something very stupid. She stopped that line of thinking soon, though, gathering enough strength to push herself off the ground. She felt sore and still more feeble than she was used to, but she felt okay. And with a sigh, she realized that wherever she was, she was going to have to face it alone. She was used to that by now. She wasn't even scared.

Well, maybe a little. Because no matter what had happened, if she wasn't dead, and if this was real life, how could she be here? How could she be back on the Ark? Her footsteps echoed loudly in the hall. She looked down at herself and she felt different. Her hair hung down her back in a braid. That was new. Or rather, old.

Clarke turned the corner, slowly, keeping herself alert for any threat that might pass her way. But all her breath left her body when she saw Bellamy. She was so relieved that she almost cried. "Bellamy?" she said, but he didn't turn around. He didn't even move. There was a bottle in his hand and he was looking out the window down at Earth which was… which was burning. She took a few hesitant steps towards him. He looked younger somehow. He looked like a memory, only this wasn't one she was ever there for. She almost said his name again, but that was when she heard footsteps.

Raven emerged from the left, her hair in that familiar ponytail that gave Clarke a rush of fondness. It was dark in the hall. The only light came from the burning planet below, but that light was enough to show Clarke what was so familiar. She had seen Raven in that outfit before. Praimfaya. Somehow, she was looking down at Praimfaya.

"She saved us again," Raven said, in a voice thick with emotion. When Clarke realized what she was looking at, her first instinct was to run. She couldn't watch this. There was something so private and intimate about their grief, but what hurt her most was the knowledge that they were grieving for her. She couldn't relieve them of it, and she couldn't go back to when they loved her enough that they would grieve her at all. Except, she could go back. She was back. It was that knowledge that glued Clarke to the spot she was standing in.

"Think we can do this without her?" Raven said, meeting Bellamy's eyes. The love between them was steady and palpable. Clarke could feel it in the air.

Bellamy's voice was steady too. "If we don't, she died in vain. And I'm not gonna let that happen."

You didn't, she wanted to say. Neither of you did. Her hand started reaching for him. He was so close, the Bellamy who had loved her. But she knew that every day that passed for him on the ring was another day he loved her a little less. She wanted to freeze this moment, but as soon as her hands brushed his back, she heard a strange whooshing sound, like the wind in the valley, and everything went dark.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

As Bellamy walked towards the sound of Clarke's voice, towards the light in the distance, the light started to spread itself around him until he found himself standing in a very familiar room. Becca's lab. He could still hear Clarke, but it wasn't over the radio anymore. He looked down and felt his heart come to a shuddering stop for a few moments. He should have known what he was about to see would be awful, horrible, the face that plagued his nightmares for six years. But to imagine something and to see it in front of you are two very different things. Her skin was covered in boils and burns, and what little parts weren't mangled were deathly pale. There was black blood on the floor in front of her, and she was crying, but no tears were coming out. Bellamy guessed that had something to do with her chapped lips.

How long after Praimfaya was this? How long had she been laying here? He shook his head, looking down at her with wide eyes. It looked like she had crawled to the radio, pulled it to her. She was cradling it to her chest, speaking into it desperately. "Bellamy, come in! Is everyone okay?" A brief silence, as agonizing to him as it was to her. Because he knew that she would never get an answer. But watching the hope die on her face was almost as awful as confronting what it truly meant when he left her behind.

She let out some dry sobs. "I think I'm dying," she said weakly. "Just tell me. Tell me you made it. Please." Her voice was fading to a whisper now. Her hold on the radio was loosening. "Bellamy," she whispered one final time, before the radio clattered gently to the floor and she fell unconscious. He felt frozen.

He still remembered how he felt when he saw the lights go on. When he realized that she had done it, and that he was living in the last moment in which he was sure that he and Clarke were alive at the same time. That as he was crawling towards salvation, she was dying or dead. Every horrible thing he could have imagined, he just saw.

He knelt next to her. Even under all the burns and cracked skin, she looked so much younger. Just as he remembered her. He was surprised when he touched her and she was solid. Did that mean he was really here? Just where had the Anomaly taken him? And where was Clarke - his Clarke? The one he'd carried inside of it?

It felt hard to concentrate on that version of her, though, when there was a version of her right in front of him that seemed very real, and very alive, and very hurt. He tenderly lifted her into his arms. She shouldn't be laying on the floor. He remembered seeing a cot of sorts, propped against the wall. He'd seen it when Clarke had laid her hand on his heart and told him how to live without her. He slowly walked up the stairs, treasuring every moment, no matter how horrible, because it was extra time he had had with her. Because wherever he was now, the version of him that had just gotten to the ring, he was grieving her. Bellamy knew how hard that had been, so he should consider himself lucky.

Gently, he laid her down, stroking her hair with his thumb. Maybe he was supposed to spend these six years with her, taking care of her, making sure she was safe. Maybe that's what the Anomaly was telling him. It didn't sound so bad. Actually, it sounded too good to be true. Maybe it was okay if he never made his way out. Maybe it would be alright.

But the moment was broken by a startling question: Why was he okay? He didn't have nightblood. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Bellamy heard a whooshing sound, like the dropship doors opening for the first time. And when everything started going dark, he knew that the Anomaly had a different purpose in mind for him.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When light returned to her world, she found herself in the exact same position, only Bellamy and Raven were gone. She took a step forward, touching her fingers to the glass. It was hard to believe that she and Madi were down there right now, surviving. It was hard to believe anyone could survive from the sight of the planet. She wondered how long after Praimfaya it was, but more pressingly, she wondered whether or not she was dead. But if she was, shouldn't she be seeing her own memories, and not Bellamy's?

There was so much she didn't understand and Clarke wasn't used to that feeling. She kept going over everything she knew, trying to find an answer, but her mind went completely blank once she heard Bellamy screaming. "Bellamy?" she cried out, running towards the sound of his voice. She thought she heard her name, mingled with a sort of sob, a sort of strained cry, and she sped in that direction, coming to a halt only when she saw a blond head tentatively walking into the room the screams were coming from.

"Bellamy? Are you alright?" Harper's voice came, gentle and nervous. Clarke slid in unnoticed after her. The room was dark, and Bellamy was in bed, his legs tangled in his thin bedsheet. He was sweating, rubbing a hand over his wet eyes, still half-trapped in whatever nightmare that had been violent enough to wake Harper, but now he only looked embarrassed. He was breathing heavily, and Clarke felt her heart pounding alongside him. She hadn't known Bellamy to get a lot of sleep, and when he did, she was never there to hear his nightmares.

He looked at Harper, eyes wild, as if he still didn't quite know where he was. "I left her there," he said, voice raw and hoarse. Harper crossed the distance between herself and his bed and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't respond to the hug, but he dropped his head so his face was buried in her shoulder. It felt too private to look at and Clarke wondered what the hell she was still doing in this room.

"You did what you had to do," Harper said.

"I keep seeing her burning. I can't get it out of my head."

Clarke's heart was in her mouth. She hadn't even allowed herself to imagine Bellamy grieving for her, not really. She was too focused on wondering whether or not he was even alive. And if she imagined him alive, she imagined him happy. When she stayed behind and let that rocket take off without her, she wasn't just doing it so they could live, she was doing it so they could have peace. She knew that there would be pain for them to reckon with, and maybe she'd hoped they'd miss her, but it was one thing to imagine something and another to see it in front of her.

Harper held Bellamy tighter. "Bellamy, Clarke would be proud of you." I was, Clarke wanted to say. I am.

He pulled away, body rigid and face stony. "But she's not proud. She's dead."

Harper sighed, looking concerned, but also as if she knew that anything she said would be futile. "Get some sleep, okay?" she said, standing up. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"Sorry I woke you," he said, his voice stoic now, his face as emotionless as he could get it. "I'll try to keep it down."

"That's not what's bothering me. We're worried about you."

"It's just a nightmare. We all get them. I'll be fine." He rolled over, facing the wall, signalling a clear end to the conversation. Harper looked over her shoulder at him one more time, worry etched all over her face before she left the room, giving in. How many nights like this had there been? If only he could have heard her. Even if he couldn't answer, if only he could have known that she was still alive. If only she could have let him know somehow.

Why didn't she set off flares or something? The answer came immediately: because she didn't have any flares or any time to build them. She was too concerned with keeping herself and Madi alive and that had been hard enough. Clarke walked over to the bed, reaching out a hand to rest on his arm. She wanted to touch him, to let him know that she was there, that in six years he would see her again.

"Bellamy," she said softly, and to her surprise, he turned towards the sound of her voice.

He looked frightened, confused, his eyes searching through the dark. "Clarke?" he whispered. But before she could answer again, she was pulled into another memory.

Only the memory wasn't her own.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When Bellamy found himself in the world again, it wasn't a world he recognized. It was Earth, that was a sure thing. But - it was desolate. Barren. It looked hopeless and unforgiving. Everything was a faded gray, and he had no way of knowing if the ground he was walking on was ground he'd walked on before. He scanned the horizon, looking for Clarke, and sure enough, he spotted her. She almost blended right in. But she was sitting on top of the rover, a radio in her hand.

That damn radio. She looked different, in a way Bellamy had never seen her look before. The look was so unrecognizable on her that it took him a moment to place it. But she looked defeated. "Part of me thinks that Jasper had the right idea," she said. What scared him most was how frankly she said it. No tears. No trembling voice. She said it as if it was merely another factor to consider. He remembered Jasper the last day he saw him. So at peace, something almost close to happiness. "May we meet again," Bellamy had said. And Jasper replied, "We won't," with a smile. Clarke wasn't there to see that. If she was, she would be a hell of a lot more scared at the words she was saying. But Bellamy had to remind himself that this wasn't his Clarke. That she survived six more years, that she found her way to him again.

But somehow, he'd thought that she found Madi right away. Some time had passed since he last saw her in Becca's lab. It had clearly been a while on her own. How long was she alone out here? he thought as she continued. "What's the point if all there is is pain and suffering?"

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her everything that she had to look forward to, everything good about the world she lived in and the world they found. Everything good he wanted to give her. And then she laughed. Just a brief exhale, but it was enough to make Bellamy feel a bit better. "Real cheerful, Clarke," she said. It sounded like something he would say to her. "I'm sorry. Ignore me, okay? I haven't had water in two days. I need to find some soon, or I don't think I'm gonna…"

He remembered the night after he'd seen her again, sitting by the fire. He asked her how she survived alone and all she told him was that she'd had Madi. He knew it must have been hard for her, but there was so much she left out. She shouldn't have been alone in the first place. She should have been up there, on the ring, with all of her friends, everyone who loved her.

She did start to cry then, as if she could hear Bellamy's wishes and they mirrored her own. They probably did. At this point, she thought she was the last person alive on the planet. Above ground, at least. But she took a deep breath and steeled herself. Bellamy tried to steel himself too. "Anyway, I doubt you can hear me on this piece of crap radio."

"I wish I could have," he said. But he might as well have been talking to no one because she didn't even turn her head. "But in case this is the last time I get to do this, I just want to say…" She was silent for a moment. And he wondered if he'd finally get an answer to the question that had plagued him for years. But instead, he got an answer to a different one. "Please don't feel bad about leaving me here. You did what you had to do. I'm proud of you."

Her words were like a punch to the gut. On the ring, everyone tried to make him feel better that first month by saying that Clarke would be proud of him. That he made the right choice. But it was hard to believe that anyone would be grateful for dying. It turned out, they were right. Of course they were. He didn't know if he'd ever stop feeling guilty and he was sure he'd never stop regretting it. But if they ever made it out of the Anomaly together, then maybe he'd finally believe that everything happened as it should have.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Moonshine is always a good idea, Raven," Murphy said, clinking his cup with Monty's. Clarke looked around curiously. The first and last time she had ever partied was with these people. Unity Day. It felt like so long ago. Bellamy was sitting alone at the table and Raven was working at the computer, but everyone else was gathered around Monty, who was pouring out glasses of his homemade moonshine. God, that stuff was lethal. But Clarke wished she could try some now anyway. She wished she and Bellamy could finally share that drink.

"Yeah, we'll see when all of you are hungover tomorrow and we still have to take care of the oxygen scrubbers."

Murphy made his way over to Bellamy, leaning across the table and sliding a cup towards him. Bellamy looked at the cup, then at Murphy. "I said I didn't want any,"

"Trust me, you need this."

"Murphy," Raven said, warningly.

"What the hell?" Bellamy said, shrugging, tossing it back and downing the whole drink in just a few gulps. That seemed intense even for him.

"Very good," Murphy said, grinning.

As Clarke stepped closer to Bellamy, the scene faded out into another one, and she found herself in the hallway outside his bedroom again. She stepped inside, just as cautiously as she had the last time. He wasn't in his bed now. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and his arm slung over his knees. There was no way to twist it: he was wasted. She took a few more steps towards him, driven by curiosity more than anything else. But she jumped back when he tilted his head up to look at her.

"Bellamy?" she said, mostly to soothe her mind, remind herself that he couldn't actually see her. But it really felt like he was looking right at her.

"Go away," he said, and his eyes were red and angry.

"Bellamy," she whispered again, at a loss for what to do or say. She still looked like she had the last time he'd seen her, in that gray radiation suit with her braid trailing down her back. She must look like a ghost to him. If she had a mirror, she was sure she'd look like a ghost to herself too. The girl she was when she wore this suit and hugged him goodbye was dead now. And it seemed like both of them knew it, only in different ways.

"You're not here!" he said, and he yelled, hurling his cup towards the wall and watching it shatter. Clarke didn't flinch. He was Bellamy from the past and she was Clarke from the future and there was so much he didn't know and so much she'd never said, but she was still Clarke and he was still Bellamy. And she wasn't scared of him.

"You saved your friends. You did what you had to do."

"I didn't save you," and his eyes were desperate and helpless.

"You didn't have to. I'm right here, Bellamy."

"No, you're not," he yelled again, tears slipping down his face. "You're down there! You're burning!"

"I'm not." She reached for him and was surprised to find that he was solid, that she could touch him. If she was really here, maybe that meant she could change things. But then again, maybe she was just dead. His face was in her hands now, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "You'll see me again."

He looked at her, and hope flickered and died in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I should have stayed behind."

"No, you shouldn't have. You had to leave me. It was the only choice."

For the first time, a strange smile came across Bellamy's face. "That's an oxymoron, you know."

She smiled too. It was only for the most fleeting of moments, but for just that second, it was like the years and the distance fell away. Like he was Bellamy, the one she knew, and she was Clarke, the one he knew, and he hadn't left her behind and she hadn't spent a quarter of her life missing him. It was like they were together, having that drink.

And then footsteps echoed behind her and Clarke moved out of the way. "He's here," Murphy said, sounding sullenly guilty.

"You shouldn't have given him a drink. I told you what would happen," Raven said, hooking Bellamy's arm over her shoulders and struggling to help him up.

As Murphy moved to help her, he said, "This is what happens every night anyway. I thought we might as well try something new."

"He'll be useless tomorrow, if he even remembers this."

"It's been three weeks, Raven. He'll get over it."

Raven paused, biting her lip. "Will he?"

"Monty did. And he knew Jasper his whole life."

"Monty's not over it. He just has Harper."

"Well…" Murphy said, trailing off and Raven reached over Bellamy to smack him.

"I'm not fucking Bellamy to test your theory."

"Just putting it out there."

"Clarke," Bellamy said drowsily, trying to reach an arm out towards where she was standing, off to the side, unnoticed by Raven and Murphy. "Don't go."

"I won't," she said softly. And he smiled again, very faintly.

"I won't leave you behind again if you just don't go. Deal?"

Raven and Murphy exchanged a worried glance before roughly dropping him on the bed. Raven looked down on him, jaw clenched. "It wasn't just you who left her behind," she said, her voice harsh.

"Raven…" Murphy said, reaching to put a tentative hand on her arm. But she dodged his touch. Within moments, Bellamy was asleep. Murphy sighed.

Raven looked at him, a mixture of annoyance and fondness and grief in her eyes. "Still think he'll get over her by fucking someone else?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When Bellamy found himself in the valley, he wondered if Clarke felt as relieved as he did. The worst was over. He wouldn't have to watch her starve anymore. And he wouldn't have to watch her be all alone. A couple yards away, he saw a small campfire, and he walked towards it, knowing who he'd find in its light. Her hair was still long, like it was the last few months before Praimfaya, with her bangs pinned back. Sometimes he missed seeing her hair in that half up position, the way she had it before Mount Weather had ruined them both. It made her look younger.

She was sketching absent-mindedly in a blank sketchbook. Bellamy moved to look over her shoulder, find out what she was drawing. He knew she was an artist, but she'd never had too much time to draw while they were all fighting for their lives. It was nice to see her so… peaceful. He had always hoped they'd get that someday, but if they couldn't have it together, at least she'd gotten it all.

But before he could get a good look, screams came from inside the tent. Clarke dropped her sketchbook and crawled in. Bellamy looked through the flap at a much younger Madi. This must have been when Clarke first met her, only three months after Praimfaya. "Shhhh, shhhh, you're okay. You're safe."

"I want my mom!" Madi cried, clutching onto Clarke.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just a nightmare, _natblida_. It'll pass." And pretty soon, Madi's sobs quieted to shudders, and then she settled. Clarke made to leave, but Madi's hand reached for her wrist.

"Can I come sit by you?"

Clarke's smile was soft and fond. Bellamy had seen her with Madi, but never had he seen them so domestic. So shy. It was lovely, and it was sad. He realized with a start that that was over now that Madi was the commander. She could never be this protected again, never this taken care of. Guilt simmered in him, but he swallowed it down. He just wanted to watch.

They sat down by the fire and Madi laid her head in Clarke's lap. Clarke stroked her hair as tears slid down Madi's face and off the bridge of her nose. "Clarke? Can you tell me a story?"

Clarke eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't think I have any stories you'd like," she said softly. Bellamy knew what she was thinking about: blood and pain, war and fear, anger and betrayal. Things that Clarke was too young to know about, let alone a five year old girl.

"My mom used to tell me stories when I had trouble sleeping."

Clarke sighed. "Okay, let's see." Her eyes drifted over to her sketchbook, which lay where she had dropped it. This time, Bellamy could see what she was drawing. He was surprised, although maybe he shouldn't have been, to see him, with dried blood circling his eyes. Oppenheimer. That was a bad day.

Still, he wouldn't mind going back there. He never thought he'd feel that way. He never thought he'd miss it. Clarke sighed, letting her gaze linger on her drawing for a moment longer before looking down at the child in her lap. "Long before I met you, I used to live in the sky."

"Skaikru," Madi said softly.

"So you've heard of us in _Louwoda Kliron._"

"Only in stories. Keep going."

"My home in the sky was called the Ark. And it was dying. We were running out of air and food and medicine for our children." As she spoke, she looked down at Madi, fondly stroking her hair. "If you did anything to make life harder for anyone else, no matter how small a crime it was, you were punished. But that wasn't enough to keep us alive forever. So one day, the king made a drastic decision. He sent one hundred kids to the ground, even though everyone on the Ark believed that no human being could survive down here." She smiled, resting her hand on Madi's cheek. "We didn't know about you yet."

"Then what happened?" Madi whispered, her voice serious and enraptured. Bellamy was familiar with the look on her face. It was the look on Octavia's face whenever he told her one of his ancient Greek myths, usually one about a warrior. Clarke was a good storyteller, whether she knew it or not.

"Well, we fell to earth in a ship. And we survived the landing. At least, almost all of us did," and Bellamy saw a brief flicker of sadness passed as she remembered the two nameless members of the one hundred who had died before they got to breathe in the earth's air. "And we found out the ground was survivable. So it was only one hundred kids on the ground and we were only sent there because the king decided we were expendable."

"What does expendable mean?"

Clarke paused for a moment. "It means that it would be okay if he lost us."

"Why did he think that?"

Clarke smiled, gently. "Because we were criminals. Some of us were thieves, some had wasted oxygen by being careless. And one girl was arrested just for being born." Bellamy swallowed, but the lump in his throat made it hard. As she spoke, he could see it in front of him. He remembered those days clearer than any other time in his life, even though it was almost seven years ago now. But for her, for this Clarke, only one year had passed.

"Why?" Madi asked, as stunned by Octavia's imprisonment as Octavia had been.

"Because she had an older brother. And on the Ark, you're not supposed to have any brothers or sisters. But her brother loved her so much that he snuck onto the ship so he could come down to earth and keep her safe."

"What was his name?"

Clarke looked off into the distance, up at the stars. She was quiet for a moment. "His name was Bellamy. When we got to the ground, we were sent to die. We were just kids, we were all scared. But instead of seeing it as a death sentence, Bellamy helped us see the ground as our second chance." Her fingers kept stroking Madi's hair, but her face had a faraway look. He could tell she was as gripped by the memory as he was.

"Some of us wanted to make rules, like the kind we had on the Ark. But Bellamy knew that we didn't have to live like that anymore. And pretty soon, everyone realized the same thing." He knew she was talking about herself, but he'd always seen it as him coming around to her way of thinking and not the other way around. But maybe they'd just met in the middle. Maybe that was why they were so good together.

"Bellamy didn't believe in protecting everyone by punishing the few. He cared about each member of the one hundred, no matter what they had done. And he did all he could to keep us all alive. But just because the ground was survivable didn't mean survival would be easy. He gave everyone hope. It wasn't just that we wanted to survive, it was that we believed we could. We believed that we had the right to be here." She swallowed, hard. These memories were some of their better ones, but that didn't mean they weren't hard to relive. And he could tell that she was lonely, even with Madi in her lap. "When the war came, some of us wanted to run. But Bellamy wanted us to stand our ground and fight. He was brave and protective. And he didn't let me do any of it alone," she finished quietly

"Did you win the war?" Madi whispered. Clarke looked down as if she'd forgotten that Madi was there.

"We won that one."

"What happened to the one hundred?"

"There are only seven of us left now," Clarke said softly, and Bellamy could see the tears glimmering in her eyes. "Eight if you count Raven."

"Who's Raven?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow night. Go to sleep, _natblida_. We'll have time for more stories in the morning."

With a sweet smile, Madi hugged Clarke and Clarke blinked back, surprised. If this was the first story, she must only have known Madi for weeks, if not days.

Clarke was very still once Madi left her alone. And then, slowly, she reached for the radio she kept at her hip. "I miss you, Bellamy," she said. "Come home."

"I did," he said, "I will." But she couldn't hear him at all.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke found herself, once again, at Raven's side, by the ring's central computer. Everyone was milling around except for Bellamy and Murphy. But Clarke felt her heart constrict when she saw Monty. God, how she missed him. How she wished he were still with them. They needed to hear his voice now more than ever, and not just in their heads.

Of course, Clarke reminded herself, she could still be dead. She kept forgetting that, kept thinking about what she would do when she got back to her friends. But the likelihood was that she would never see them again. Not Monty, of course, but not Raven or Murphy either. Not Bellamy.

"Monty!" Raven called out, beckoning him over. He walked towards her nonchalantly. He seemed happier somehow, lighter. "Have you seen Bellamy?"

Monty nodded. "Yeah, he's by the window."

"Again?" Raven said, sounding weary. "Get him away from there."

Monty's voice softened. "It's only been a month, Raven."

She looked at him, face full with emotion and honesty. "We can't let him get used to it. It's been long enough. Make up something if you have to, but enough is enough."

Monty nodded, and turned away. And of course, Clarke followed him. How much didn't she know? Most of what she'd seen, she'd been able to guess. But a lot of what she'd seen just made her heart hurt even more. Because maybe Bellamy still loved her, but she lost Raven's love and Murphy's reluctant affection. Had Monty and Harper even been able to forgive her before they died too?

They turned the corner together and saw Bellamy, sitting with his back to the wall, looking down at the burning planet below. "Hey, Bellamy," Monty said softly. Bellamy just looked up at him and then back down at earth again, eyes sadder than Clarke had ever seen them, at least since before these memories started. "I found some old books in one of the empty rooms if you want to see them."

"Maybe later," Bellamy said, quietly.

"I think you should come see them."

Bellamy sighed and leaned his head back on the wall. "Raven sent you this time, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did, but that's not why I'm here." Monty walked up to Bellamy, eyebrows furrowed with worry and love. Clarke walked with him, stride for stride. She was right beside him as he tried to help Bellamy. If Bellamy could have heard her, she would have tried too.

"Fine. I'll bite. Why are you here, Monty?" Bellamy said. He didn't sound mean or annoyed. Just tired.

"Because if you don't come with me right now, I'm worried about what might happen to you."

"Nothing is happening to me. Not for five years, at least."

"Bellamy, if you don't leave the window today, you'll never leave. No matter whether you're in space or on the ground."

Bellamy rubbed his hand over his face, still looking at Earth. "I just miss her. The only reason I can even get out of bed in the morning is the thought that I'll see Octavia in five years. But no matter how long I wait, I'll never see Clarke."

"Bellamy -"

"She died alone, Monty. Am I supposed to live with that for the rest of my life? Because I don't know how anyone can endure that." The way Bellamy said this was different. It was almost like a question, like he was asking Monty if it was possible.

Monty's face was sad and serious. "I miss her too." Clarke had to fight back tears upon hearing those words. "And I miss Jasper. I wish you could have been with her as she died like I was with Jasper and I wish you could have said all the things you wanted to say. But Clarke didn't die alone." Bellamy's eyes were red, and he was looking at Monty desperately, searching for an answer in his words. "She died knowing that she did everything she could to save us. And she died knowing that we loved her. She didn't die alone, Bellamy."

"She should have been here with us."

"They both should have. But they're gone and we're here. And if I know Clarke, she wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life looking out this window."

"It doesn't matter what she would want. She's dead," Bellamy said, losing it a little.

"That's all that matters. You can't just live your life wishing things were different. You have the chance to do more than just survive, for the first time since we set foot on the ground. Maybe since even before that. What would Clarke do?"

For a long time, Bellamy seemed frozen, meeting Monty's gaze with an almost scared expression in his eyes. She knew how he felt. She knew how hard it was to think about putting one foot in front of the other. If she'd had time after Lexa died, Clarke wasn't sure if she'd have been able to think of anything else but her grief. And she wondered if Monty was wrong. If their roles were reversed and she thought Bellamy was dead, she might never leave that window.

But she would, eventually, wouldn't she? She knew that about herself. And Monty knew it too. And finally, Bellamy, standing up to hug Monty, had confronted that truth. If he was going to do what Clarke would have done, the first step would be taking a step forward at all.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Bellamy, what was it like, raising Octavia? Was it like she was the only thing that mattered?" Clarke was speaking into the radio by the fire as Bellamy sat across from her, listening to her call.

"It was," he said, "until I met you."

"Because if that's how you felt, I think I'm beginning to understand you a little better." She was quiet for a moment, but it was a peaceful silence. The more time he spent in the Anomaly, living through Clarke's memories, the more content she became. Less on edge. He could tell when she was sad, or scared. But she had peace here like he had peace on the ring. "Is it hard being up there without anyone to take care of anymore?" she asked, as if she was really expecting an answer. Then she laughed. "Who am I kidding? If I know you, you're taking care of everyone."

I tried to, he thought. That's what I thought you would do.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

By the time the next memory started, Clarke found that some time seemed to have passed. She didn't know exactly how she knew, but there was a change in all of them. A sense of stability. Security. A sense of community, even. They were all gathered around the central console, which is where the table was and the common space was and seemed to be a sort of living room for everyone. There were even some things lying around that Clarke knew belonged to Harper and Raven. It was starting to feel like home.

"Look, I'm going to be completely frank here."

"Are you ever anything else?" Murphy said unhappily.

Raven shot him a look before continuing but it didn't have as much bite as usual. "We've got a problem with one of the ring's external generators. If I don't get it fixed, we'll be dead within a week."

The sentence hung heavy over them for a moment before Murphy shrugged. "So get it fixed."

"That's the thing. Whoever does it will have to spacewalk. And I've been working on it, but the systems aren't fully in place yet. There's no guarantee it'll be safe."

"I'll do it," Bellamy said, unhesitatingly. Clarke's breath hitched in her throat, even though she knew he would survive. But Raven shook her head.

"No. You can't. You won't be able to understand the machinery. It needs to be an engineer." Raven looked towards Monty fleetingly, then back at the rest of the group. "I'm going."

"No way," Bellamy said. "It's way too dangerous. And your leg could be a liability. It might be safer if Monty -"

"Without Monty, there's no food. You need him. So this isn't a discussion. I'm not asking for anyone's permission, I'm telling you what I'm going to do."

"Raven," Monty said, "are you sure about this? Maybe if we wait a few more days and work on the -"

"We might not have a few more days." She looked at each of them in turn, slowly, before settling her sight on Bellamy. "What would Clarke do?"

To Bellamy's credit, his face remained impassive, but his nod was heavy with meaning. Clarke blinked, surprised. First Monty, then Raven. She had no idea they spoke of her like this. And before the memory pulled away, she realized that she was standing between Bellamy and Murphy, in the empty space they'd somehow made for her. As if she was really there. As if she was one of them.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy was surprised to find Clarke nowhere in sight when the next memory started. Instead, he was by Madi's side as she sketched on a page of her own. She looked older now, seven maybe? She looked more like the brave young girl he'd met and ruined. But even though Clarke wasn't there to begin with, it didn't take long for her to appear.

"Clarke!" Madi said, her voice heavy with fear. Following her gaze, Bellamy saw why. Clarke appeared from behind one of the tents, limping heavily. Her left leg was dark with black blood. She had in her hand about a dozen fish which she dropped as soon as Madi saw her. Bellamy forgot he wasn't really there. Pure instinct had him running to catch her, to take care of her, but she stumbled straight past him, letting herself fall at Madi's feet.

"Go get the med kit," she said in a strained voice. For a moment, Madi just stood there, horrified. "It's okay, Madi. This is what we practiced for. Go get the med kit."

Madi disappeared into one of the tents as Bellamy stayed behind, looking at Clarke's pale, sweaty face. Madi was seven years old. How was she supposed to take care of this injury? It was moments like this that Bellamy realized that even though Clarke had a companion, she was still all alone. Madi was a child. Clarke was raising her. But who took care of Clarke when she needed to be taken care of? Who listened to her stories and soothed her nightmares?

Madi came rushing back. "What do I do?" she said, crying a little bit.

"Take out the needle and thread. The cut isn't that bad," Clarke said, clearly lying, but it seemed to reassure Madi a little bit. "It's just like we practiced. Remember?" Madi's hands were shaking slightly, but they steadied as they went to work. The cut was long and jagged. It looked painful. Madi knew to pour alcohol on it, and it seemed to be all Clarke could handle to hold in her cry of pain.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," Madi said, crying again, but taking out the needle and thread.

"It's okay. I told you it's not that bad. Focus on my voice, alright?" Madi nodded, sticking the needle into Clarke's skin. Clarke bit her lip strongly enough to draw blood, and then said, "I always told you to be careful on the hill by the lake. I should have taken my own advice."

"You fell?" Madi said shakily, not taking her eyes away from Clarke's wound.

"Mm-hmm," Clarke said weakly, trying desperately to hide her pain. "Cut my leg on a rock. I got some fish for us tonight, though. After you finish stitching me up, we can cook some. Does that sound good?"

Madi nodded, her eyes still brimming with tears and fright. "I'm almost done." Clarke shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the final suture to be in place. "I think I did it."

"Okay, let me see," Clarke said, peering over. It was sloppy work, even Bellamy could tell, but it seemed like Madi had done the job. Bellamy knew she had, actually, because when he saw Clarke again she was alive and with both her legs. That didn't explain why his heart was pounding so much right now, though. Clarke's head fell back in a type of relief. "I'm going to go to sleep now, okay, Madi?"

"No, don't. Clarke, don't."

"It's okay. You did a good job. I'm going to sleep now. Make sure it's clean, okay? And don't do anything dangerous until I wake up." As she spoke with the last remnants of her consciousness, her voice got weaker and weaker. Bellamy found himself in awe that she'd held on this long. That must have been very hard to do. She must have had to be very brave.

"Clarke, please wake up," Madi cried, but finally, Clarke was out. Bellamy knew that the worst was over, but Madi was only a little girl. She couldn't have possibly known that. She cried next to Clarke's side for a few minutes before reaching for the radio. She pushed the button carefully, and said with a shaky voice, "Bellamy?" She waited for an answer, as if one had ever come before. "I think Clarke's hurt. I don't know what to do. She said you always helped her. What do I do?"

But the memory faded into another one before Madi could get an answer. Bellamy already knew that she never did.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Time had definitely passed in the next memory Clarke saw. Bellamy was still beardless, but Murphy was displaying his new look proudly. And he and Monty were bickering. "You told him?" Raven said to Monty from across the room.

"I didn't think he'd actually want to do it."

"It's Murphy, of course he'd want to do it."

"What's going on?" Bellamy said, entering the room. "Do what?"

"Monty figured out how to make a strain of algae that might taste better."

Bellamy shrugged, his eyes lighting up. "Doesn't sound like a problem to me."

"If I make it," Monty said, "we risk losing the whole supply."

"Oh. We're not doing that."  
"Thank you, Bellamy."

"You guys are no fucking fun! We've been eating this crap for two years, Monty figures out a great new recipe and you want to play it safe?" Murphy argued.

"No, we just don't want to die for the sake of seasoning," Raven said.

"Come on. Making a sacrifice for the sake of the greater good? What would Clarke do?" Murphy said, gesturing to almost exactly where Clarke was standing.

Monty looked at him incredulously. "We are not doing that." Murphy glared at him for a moment before his mouth twisted upwards and he let out a laugh. Soon, everyone in the room was laughing. Even Clarke.

"It was worth a shot," Murphy said, as the memory moved into another one. She didn't want to leave this one, though. The years were moving quickly. Why did things have to change at all?

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"It's been three years. It's strange to think that in two years, I might not be alone anymore." It was nighttime. Madi was clearly asleep, and Clarke was leaning against a tree, eating berries. "Sometimes I think about what I'll do when I see your face again, but then it gets harder to wait. I wish you were here. So does Madi, for the record. Although, I think she likes Octavia more. You're going to love her, just as much as she's going to love you."

I do love her, Clarke, Bellamy thought. I tried my best.

"Sometimes everything we did together, every battle we fought feels like a dream. It's hard for any of it to seem real when everyone's gone. But then I just have to remember Jasper. And Lexa. Wells. Finn. Charlotte. Then it feels like it just happened yesterday. I wish more than anything I could have told Jasper…" Clarke trailed off, setting her radio down for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. I guess I just miss telling stories to people who remember them too. Or maybe it's just you I miss." Another pause. "I hope Murphy isn't driving you too crazy up there. I hope everyone's okay. I can't wait to see your faces again. It's all I dream about." She set the radio down with a sigh. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Bellamy."

That was all I dreamed about too, Clarke, he wanted to say. Sometimes I dream it still.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Okay, remember, Murphy. If the gauge goes above 75, you come get me. No, 70. You know what? Just shout really loud. I'm sleeping right next door."

"Right. And how long is my shift?"

Raven rolled her eyes at him. "All night. We've all done it. Now it's your turn."

"You know, if this thing explodes, maybe it's just our time to go. Unless you want to pull the all-nighter?"

"We only have to worry about this for another week, so I'd appreciate it if you'd cooperate," Raven said.

"Yeah, whatever." Murphy was clearly unhappy about being put on watch duty for a sort of machine that Clarke didn't recognize. It seemed like surviving on the Ring was harder than she'd thought it would be. She guessed she should have known a ship meant to be run by hundreds would be difficult with only Monty and Raven sustaining it. She never had to worry about things like this on Earth. Then again, she'd had other problems.

She watched as Murphy slumped in his chair, resting his hand on his head, already clearly bored. What happened next was strange, but Clarke had been bouncing from memory to memory long enough that she wasn't surprised when everything seemed to go soft around the edges as if the memory was being sped up, was melting into another one. She watched as Murphy fell asleep, and then continued to sleep, and then got up and stretched out on the cot and rolled over to sleep harder. Well, if he wouldn't watch the gauge, Clarke would. And if it went above 75, she would figure something out. But just as soon as she set her eyes on it, enough time had passed that Raven was coming back. And she wasn't alone.

It had only taken thirty seconds for Clarke, but it was clear that Murphy had checked out all night. "Wake up, asshole," Raven said, kicking him in the shin.

"Ow, fuck. What?" He blinked his eyes open, widening them when he realized what had happened.

"You had one job! You know, I thought you were done being a selfish asshole when we left earth, but I guess old habits die hard, huh?" Raven said, crossing her arms and glaring at Murphy with death in her eyes. Clarke was glad she wasn't on the other end of that glare, though she realized with a start that she had been, and not too long ago either. It felt so far away, everything that had happened on Sanctum. Again, Clarke wondered if she was dead.

"I fell asleep. It was an accident."

"It doesn't look like an accident," Echo said, gesturing to the cot.

"Come on. You guys are overreacting. We're fine."

"We've all done this for you, John. You could have done this for us," Emori said, not even slightly flinching away from his gaze. But as soon as she spoke out against him, the room went quiet and tense. Murphy's eyes betrayed anger and hurt, but only for a second before a smirk took its place.

"Well, Murphy, looks like you've just won yourself first watch," Bellamy said, shaking his head and leaving. Everyone was quick to follow him except Emori, who lingered.

"You know, you didn't have to pile on," Murphy said, arms crossed.

Emori looked at him, eyes narrowed. It was clear they were still together but Clarke could guess that three years was enough time for her family to extend beyond just Murphy. And she knew that it would be hard for him to deal with that. "You're lucky nothing went wrong, but we could have all died." She paused, hesitating before saying what she said next. But she didn't shy away from his glare. "What would Clarke do?"

Then, she turned and walked away, leaving Clarke quietly astonished. "Really?" Murphy yelled after her. "You're pulling the Clarke card on me? You barely knew her!" Emori didn't turn around. "Do you remember when she tried to fry you?" She disappeared behind a corner and Murphy sat back in the chair, sulkily. "It's like I'm the only one who remembers that she sucked most of the time."

To her surprise, that statement didn't give her a pang, didn't make her want to run away. Instead, for the first time in a long time, it just made her laugh.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Madi!" It was pouring rain. It felt like a long time since Bellamy had felt rain on his skin. "Madi, where are you?" Clarke's voice was frantic. "Madi, please! Where did you go?"

"Clarke?" A small voice echoed from twenty feet away. It was Madi, of course, soaked through with rain, but seemingly unharmed. Actually, she seemed a little confused at Clarke's worry. Clarke just ran up to Madi, clutching her tightly in her arms.

"I woke up and you were gone," she whispered. Bellamy could tell she was crying.

"I didn't know it would rain, I'm sorry."

"What have I told you about staying put while I'm asleep?" Clarke scolded, pulling away.

"I'm not a little kid anymore. I can go find berries by myself."

"Yes, you are. You are a little kid. And anything can happen to you. I will not do this alone, do you understand me?"

I will not do this alone. Classic Clarke, Bellamy thought, with a smile. Not that she can't. That she won't. That Madi wasn't allowed to get hurt or lost or anything, because Clarke decided that wasn't an option. That was one of the things he loved about her most. What she willed would be done, even if she was the only one who wanted it. Even if it wasn't what he wanted her to do.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Clarke took a deep breath. "You didn't. I'm okay. Don't do that again, alright?"

She must have been scared, though. She must have been terrified. Bellamy wondered how much of Clarke's fears had to do with Madi suddenly being gone, leaving her all alone until he came back. He wondered if she'd have been able to bear it. He didn't know if he would have been able to handle this much solitude, but if he'd been with Octavia, things would have been alright. Hell, if he'd been with Clarke, he'd be living a fantasy, not a nightmare.

He was glad she'd had Madi, but he realized that it was harder than she'd let him believe. Maybe it had been harder than she'd let herself believe.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When the first thing Clarke saw was a bleeding Bellamy, her heart started pounding and her stomach dropped in dread. That was how she felt whenever any of her friends were injured, no matter how inconsequentially, but especially Bellamy. Nothing was allowed to happen to him. That was just the way the world had to work. But it didn't take long before the doctor part of her brain took over, assessing his injuries and realizing how minimal they were. She wasn't the only one who noticed, though.

Echo walked over to him, a med kit in her hands. Bellamy had a beard now. Time had passed. Part of Clarke wished she was going backwards instead of forwards. The further she went, the less these people considered her family. And by the time they got back to the ground, she wasn't part of their family at all. Everyone was milling around, not looking too worried, but when Echo went to bandage Bellamy's knee, he glared at her.

"I'm fine."

"Straighten your leg," she said simply, and Bellamy begrudgingly obliged. Clarke watched as Echo did a better than expected job at tending to his injury. When she finished, Bellamy stood up, wincing a bit, and stormed to the other side of the room. "A thank you would be nice," Echo said.

"Maybe I'd say thank you if I had asked for your help in the first place."

Clarke followed Bellamy to where Raven was standing who immediately elbowed him in the gut. "You need to cut this shit out."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's been three years, Bellamy. The rest of us have learned to live with each other. You're the only one still holding this grudge."

Bellamy looked at Raven like she was being unreasonable. "She almost killed my sister. She tried to kill Clarke!"

"Yes, and now she's one of us. So get over yourself." Raven didn't allow him any time to respond before striding out into the middle of the room. "We have a problem."

"What else is new?" Murphy said.

"The ring's carbon dioxide scrubbers are failing. And as Bellamy just found out, it can't be fixed from the inside. That means someone's going to have to take a spacewalk."

"I'm not seeing the problem," Murphy said. "The systems are fine now, right?"

"They are," Raven confirmed. "But I'm going to have to be manning the computer the whole time. That means I can't do it. Someone needs to volunteer."

"I can do it," Bellamy said.

"No, you can't. You're injured. It's a liability," she said, pointedly using his words from the memory Clarke could only assume was years ago.

"Well, I'm not volunteering," Murphy said. "I thought that was a given."

That left Monty, Harper, Echo and Emori. They all looked at each other for a moment, but as soon as Monty opened his mouth, Echo said, "I'll do it."

Raven's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"I think I've seen you working enough to understand," Echo said, shrugging. There was another moment of silence as everyone seemed hesitant to accept her offer. "Raven, you asked for volunteers and now you have one."

"It might be dangerous."

"I know. But someone still has to do it. It might as well be me. Besides, it's like we always say," Echo said with a smirk. "What would Clarke do?"

Before the weight of those words from Echo's mouth had the time to settle in Clarke's chest, she looked over at Bellamy who was blinking back in surprise.

"Okay," Raven nodded. "Suit up."

Echo was making her way towards the doorway, but Bellamy grabbed her arm. "Hey," he said roughly, but not rudely. "Try not to float yourself."

Echo smiled, just barely. "I thought you were planning on throwing me overboard to lighten the load." There was history in that sentence, a history that Clarke knew nothing about.

Bellamy smiled back, a real one this time. Clarke swallowed the wave of jealousy tugging at her heart. Those smiles were no longer for her alone anymore. "Turns out we have enough room after all."

As Echo left, Clarke could hear Murphy whispering under his breath to Raven, "Turns out he just needed to fuck someone else after all."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The first thing Bellamy could hear when a new memory started was Clarke crying. He couldn't see her, though. It only took a moment for him to realize Clarke's tiny sobs were coming from inside. He slipped through the open door to see her in bed, facing the wall. Madi was at her side, looking upset and confused, looking like she didn't know what to do.

"Clarke," Madi started, "it'll be okay." But much to Bellamy's surprise, Clarke didn't respond. "Do you want me to go get us some berries?" No response from Clarke this time, either. What had happened? What possibly could have made Clarke so upset that she wouldn't even respond to her daughter? "I'll be back, okay? And I'll even make dinner for us, like you taught me to. Okay, Clarke?"

But she didn't move, and she didn't stop crying. So with a worried look, Madi left, leaving Bellamy all alone. He approached her bedside, sitting down beside her. Of course, she couldn't sense him there at all. He looked over, trying to see her face, but what he saw instead was the radio clutched in her hands. With a shaky touch, she turned it on. "Bellamy?"

"I'm here," he said, wishing that were true.

"I didn't do it, did I? I didn't get the power on." With a sudden horror, Bellamy realized what Clarke was crying about. "I'm radioing a dead man." With that sentence, she let out another small sob. "Why else - why else would you not show up? You're all dead, aren't you? I can't get the bunker open. And I couldn't save my friends. I'm going to be alone down here forever, aren't I?"

"No, Clarke," Bellamy said, feeling tears spring to his own eyes. "You're not. I promise you're not."

"Please come home, Bellamy. Please come home."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Final sweep," Clarke heard Bellamy say at the start of this memory. She was tempted to follow him, but something else compelled her more.

Monty and Harper, holding hands, whispering to each other in soft tones. They were getting ready for something, putting on space suits. Was this the day they boarded the Eligius ship? God, she missed them so much. She wished she'd been able to say goodbye to them. And she'd wanted what they had.

She'd wanted it with Bellamy. Dead girls didn't need to keep secrets anymore, not even from themselves. If she could have lived out the rest of her life with Bellamy, she would have. She would have done it in a heartbeat.

Clarke approached Monty and Harper, feeling like maybe she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but desperate to hear their voices again and again and again.

Monty seemed troubled, almost sad. "I just can't believe we're leaving." He looked at Harper, his eyes full of so much love. "You sure about this?"

Harper grabbed his hand tighter, curling her fingers around his. "What would Clarke do?"

"I would be proud of you," Clarke said, wishing they could hear her, "no matter what you did."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"You need to get in here." Bellamy watched as Clarke hid Madi. He realized that her six years were almost completely up. This was the day he'd found her again. What would happen after that? What would he see? Maybe he'd find her again, and maybe they'd be able to leave the Anomaly. Somehow, Bellamy had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

"Not without you!" Madi said.

"There's no time to argue about this, Madi. Get in. Now. I'm gonna lead them away. Now I need you to stay out of sight no matter what. Promise me!" Emotion trembled on Clarke's face for a moment before she said, "I love you."

Those words, to Clarke, were sacred. He only heard them said when she knew that it was the last time she'd be able to say them. She must have thought the people from Eligius would kill her. Well, they had certainly tried to. Again, though it was a futile wish, Bellamy wished she hadn't had to go through all of this alone. He wished that he could have been there with her, right up until the end. Even now, even when they were within hours of seeing each other again, he wished he could have been there to take care of her. To let her know she wasn't alone.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke was surprised to find herself on a new ship. One with brighter lighting, better upkeep. It didn't take long to realize that she was on Eligius. Still. What happened when the timeline caught up with her and Bellamy's reunion? What then? Or was that the end of the road? Clarke still didn't know what was happening. But when she caught a glimpse of Bellamy and Echo all suited up, she realized that they were going to the ground. This was the day he saved her again.

She watched as Echo pulled Bellamy aside, a touch of intimacy and familiarity Clarke had never fully gotten. Murphy and Raven were nowhere in sight. From what she knew, she assumed they had already decided to stay behind. "Bellamy. Before we do this, I think we need to consider Murphy's idea."

Bellamy looked exasperated for a moment. "Not you too."

"We have the chance to eliminate this threat and go to the ground with Raven and Murphy. This could backfire in countless ways. If we kill the prisoners now, then we know exactly what we're dealing with. What would Clarke do?" she said.

Bellamy's response was instant and angry. "I am thinking about what Clarke would do. She wouldn't do this." Then, he pulled away from Echo and made his way towards the pod. "It's now or never. Let's go."

Clarke felt her eyes grow misty and she shook her head with confusion. Confusion, and a strange sort of happiness. All these memories, all the times her friends had said "What would Clarke do?" Even people who weren't her friend invoking her name. She had thought, for a long time, that they only remembered her as ruthless. As Wanheda. But they used her memory as a way to do better, to make the hard decision. Sometimes to make a selfless one.

She had never even dared to hope their memory of her would be so kind. Because the truth was, Echo might have been right. If she was on board Eligius, she didn't know whether or not she would have killed them. She liked to think she wouldn't have. But she was touched that Bellamy thought better of her. That they all had. She wondered if that love for her was still somewhere inside of them.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy was stunned to find himself in a very familiar place. This memory wasn't new to him. It was one he had seen before. He was in the desert with Octavia and Clarke - but he was looking at himself. He didn't understand. He was here for this memory, and he knew how it ended. He'd much rather relive seeing Clarke again or laughing with Monty. He wasn't quite ready to confront the person his sister had become.

As the rover drove up, though, he remembered that this memory wasn't all bad. Madi got out first, sprinting towards Clarke, and after seeing so many of their memories together, and knowing what would soon happen to that child, Bellamy found himself profoundly touched at the joy and relief and love on Clarke's face. In fact, he was so busy looking at Clarke's face that he didn't even notice Echo running towards him - the old him, that was. Beard and all. Bellamy reached up to touch his face, surprised to find it still clean-shaven.

And then he realized why the Anomaly had taken him here. Because he had been too busy with Echo to see Clarke's surprise and, if he didn't know better, he would say, hurt. But he was paying attention now. Bellamy wondered for a moment if he was fooling himself, but there was no denying it. Clarke's face was full of shock, sadness, and… jealousy?

For a moment, everything he'd done since then seemed pointless. If only he had seen her face. If only he had known then that she loved him. There was so much he would have done differently if he knew how much time they had left. But the truth was, if losing her in Praimfaya hadn't been enough, he didn't know what ever would be. But that wasn't right. Because he did know now. Because he would do anything to get her back, especially with all he had learned from the Anomaly. Everything he'd wondered about, everything he'd feared. But where was Clarke? His Clarke? He hadn't seen her since she disappeared from his arms in a shimmer of green light.

What was she seeing? What was the Anomaly showing her?

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When Clarke found herself in Becca's lab, she was overwhelmed by a wave of fear. Some of the worst moments of her life were spent in this room. Why was she back here? How was she back? Ever since she'd woken up on the ring, she'd been jumping from memory to memory, but she'd been going forward. Suddenly, though, it seemed that she'd been launched back. "Come on, Clarke," she heard a voice say. A very familiar voice.

"Bellamy," Raven's voice sounded from across the room.

"I know, Raven," Bellamy said, and Clarke forced herself to look at his face. The dread written all over it. The realization that leaving her was inevitable. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to watch this.

"Please. Please don't make me see it," she said, feeling tears fall. No one could hear her. She didn't need to hold the tears back anymore. She didn't need to pretend she was strong enough to face it. Because she wasn't strong enough to face this. She never would be. "Don't make me watch!" she cried. But no one could hear her and the memory went on.

"The radiation's already affecting the avionics… It's now or never," Raven said, and her voice was solemn and sad. But there was a note in it, and Clarke didn't think she was imagining that note, that implied that if Bellamy's answer was never, then it was never. And Raven would understand. But of course, it wasn't never. Bellamy turned around and Clarke watched him climb up the ladder to the rocket.

Her heart was in her throat. She felt sick. She felt sad. She had been so close to happiness that day and it had been ripped away from her. She watched as he turned and shut the rocket door with a trembling lip and a tormented face. And then the memory faded out and Clarke was grateful. Wherever she was, whatever this was, it was starting to be more than she could take.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

For a moment, Bellamy thought he was somewhere he had never been. But he had been here before. He just hadn't wanted to remember. Mount Weather. Before they destroyed it. He almost felt sick. He remembered the torture, he remembered being hung upside down, but mostly he remembered Maya's face, his friend, as she died in Jasper's arms. He had tried his best to put this chapter behind him.

But the Anomaly was no longer sending him forward. It was sending him back. How many memories would he have to watch? How many truths would he have to face? And then he saw Clarke. With her hand on a lever. She was wearing a light blue hoodie and she had a scab on the bridge of her nose. She was sweating. She was crying. She was so young and so sad. She was the same girl Bellamy dreamed about for six years, before she was buried under the weight of her grief.

"Clarke," Jasper said, his eyes wide. "Don't do this." Bellamy turned his attention to Jasper, his heart in his throat. It was hard to pretend that Jasper's death hadn't destroyed him a little bit. He hadn't wanted to encroach on Monty's grief, and he was so busy mourning Clarke that it was hard to start to process the loss of someone who had wanted to die. But Jasper should have survived. He should have found peace again. And seeing him, with so much light in his eyes, with so much love for Clarke, free of the anger and the trauma that had plagued his last months, Bellamy wanted to wrap his arms around his friend and never let him get hurt.

"I don't believe them," Clarke said, voice tight and scared. You were right not to, Bellamy wanted to say. You always had the best instincts.

"Why would they lie?" Jasper said earnestly. Oh, Jasper. The things you would learn. The things that would destroy you. "Listen to me. We are safe here. Because of you, we're safe." And he smiled, shyly and Bellamy thought, someone needs to take that and preserve it and never let it die. Someone needs to do that or it will be too late.

But Clarke's face was full of anguish and loss and innocence stolen too soon. "Not all of us," she said, and he knew what she was thinking of. When they had gone to war, there were only eighty-two of the hundred left. After the battle, even less. He knew that it was the same for her as it was for him: each lost life was another immeasurable weight on her heart. They had tried their best, and still, their friends had died. Too many of them.

"I'm the one that fired the rockets," Jasper said. A moment of unity. A moment of understanding. "Should I not have done that? Clarke… when you pulled that lever, you saved lives. Don't throw that away by pulling this one."

As if it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, Clarke listened to him, dropping her hand from the lever and dissolving into tears and regret. Bellamy wondered if later, she ever wished she had pulled that lever. If she had, there would be no excuse for her. No one would understand why she had done it. But so many of their friends would still be alive. No one would have died who wouldn't have died anyway. Fox would still be alive. Hell, so would Sinclair.

But Clarke was different then. She didn't want to embrace death. She wanted to live. She wanted her people to live. And Bellamy felt an indescribable sadness when he realized that this was Clarke free from the label of Wanheda. She was an eighteen-year-old girl, and she was forced to carry death over her shoulders for the rest of her life like a heavy blanket. If there was anything he could have done to lift that burden off of her, he would have.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke gasped when the next memory started playing. Earth. Before Praimfaya. Before radiation. Before everything she'd ever known had been ripped away from her. There was so much green, but she wasn't in the valley. She could have been anywhere. And then she saw Bellamy limping. Bellamy dressed as an Azgeda warrior. And it took her a moment to realize why, but when she did, it took her breath away.

She remembered this day. The day she'd met Roan, the man who had somehow become her friend. Another person she hadn't been able to save. The day she saw Bellamy for the first time in months, the day he'd tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and promised to save her. And then she swore to do anything to save him. Roan had stabbed him and knocked him out and she didn't know what happened to him afterwards.

But it seemed like she was about to find out. "Bellamy!" That was Monty again, looking so young. Clarke didn't think she would ever stop missing him. "He's hurt!" Kane said something into a radio, but she wasn't paying attention. She was transfixed by the scene in front of her. The next time she saw Bellamy after this day, he was so angry at her. Now she wanted to know why. "What happened?"

Bellamy was leaning painfully against a tree. "I almost had her," he said, voice agitated and desperate.

"Hey," Kane said, in that authoritative voice Clarke had missed. "You can't even walk."

"So what? We just give up? Let him kill her?" Bellamy said, and Clarke was almost shocked by how angry he sounded. He was all heart. He was blood and sweat and heart and nothing else. So different from the Bellamy who had returned from space, and yet she could see that Bellamy inside of him in quiet moments. And she knew that he still lived there, under the years of leading with his head because that was the only way he could survive. Still, it was strange to see his heart displayed so plainly like it always used to be.

"I want to find her too, but look at your leg. You could die out here. We have no trail," Monty sounded concerned and stern and Clarke was grateful for that. He was probably the only one who could stop Bellamy when he was determined, but Bellamy's response was an immediate outburst that stunned Clarke into silence and seemed to stun himself into silence too.

"We can't lose Clarke!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes turned to him and he looked as if he'd given too much away. "We… We can't lose her." She knew she was valuable to her people. But she'd never imagined someone could love her that much. Because wasn't that what this was? Wasn't it love? Wasn't it time to stop denying what she'd always felt? Because to say that Bellamy didn't love her would be doing a disservice to him and the ways in which he'd saved her life. He didn't do that with his hands alone. So maybe that love went away. And maybe he'd given it to someone else. But here, now, in this forest, there was no denying that Clarke had held Bellamy's heart in her hands.

She wished she could have seen this back then. But then again, what would it have changed, to know this?

Everything, her heart whispered. It would have changed everything.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When the next memory started, Bellamy knew something was different. He felt sturdier. Less invisible. Octavia was saying something to him, but he could barely hear her until she showed him into a room on the Ark that he found very familiar. He remembered this day. And he saw Clarke standing there, with her hair so long and her eyes so sad. He had just gone with Pike and done a terrible thing and he had refused to listen to Clarke when she told him that war wasn't necessary.

There was so much he wished he hadn't said. But when he found himself in this room, alone for the first time since she'd left him after Mount Weather, the hurt had transformed into anger. Just like it had when she left him at Sanctum and he had refused to help her when she asked him to. His mouth felt dry, and his heart was pounding. He knew what was coming, the words she had to say.

That was why he was surprised when she sank heavily into the chair, resting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, Bellamy, but I don't think I can relive this one again."

Her voice sounded older. Like she'd lived more. Like there was more history behind what she was saying. "That's not what you're supposed to say," he muttered.

Her head jerked up to look at him, confused. "What?"

When he spoke her name, it was no more than a hope, a prayer. But once it was said, he knew his suspicions were true. "Clarke? Is that you?"

"Bellamy?" She was wary. She was still trying to puzzle out why he was grinning at her when she was sure he didn't do this in the memory. He could read all of that on her face.

"It's me, Clarke. I remember all of it. I remember Sanctum." At the sound of that word, her eyes widened and she stepped back. She started to smile, then stopped herself, looking around her.

"What the hell is going on?" She sounded scared. And then, almost angry. "Bellamy, what the hell did you do?"

He said the only thing he could: the truth. "I saved you."


	10. Chapter 10

I saved you. The words echoed in the air between them. It was like Bellamy could see the gears turning in Clarke's head. Knowing her, it wouldn't take long to figure it out. He just hoped she wouldn't be too angry when she did. "The Hexians came, then," she said after a moment. "I failed."

Bellamy shook his head. "The Hexians did come. But the bomb worked, Clarke. Everyone's okay. The only person who got stung is… you." He felt ashamed to tell her that he couldn't protect her, to confront his culpability, what he'd let happen.

Clarke was silent for a moment, thinking. Then she said, "And you're sure I'm not dead? Because up until five minutes ago, I was pretty sure that's what had happened."

"You're not dead," Bellamy said, though he wasn't actually sure they hadn't both died the minute he set foot in the Anomaly. "The stinger was injured, but your systems were still shutting down. There was only one option left." Bellamy swallowed hard, unsure how to explain it when he didn't truly understand himself.

Clarke shook her head. "I don't understand. Bellamy, what is this place?" She looked scared. He guessed, if he paused long enough to think about it, he was scared too.

"We're in the Anomaly, Clarke," he said gently, but the confused look on her face told him that she knew nothing about that. "When I asked Elysia for help, she said -"

"You met Elysia?" Clarke cut him off, and he knew she was thinking about peace between their peoples.

"I did. They're going to help us, Clarke. They're going to let us stay." There was a brief flicker of relief on her face, something close to happiness, but it was clear she wanted Bellamy to continue. "Elysia told me about a legend, a Sanctum myth. The Anomaly, it's supposed to heal people. It was the only chance we had."

Clarke stood up now, pacing back and forth. He was struck by how strange it was to see her like this, so young, with her long hair and her grounder clothes. It felt like a different world. Finally, she turned to Bellamy, and her voice was firm. "What aren't you telling me?"

Bellamy knew this would be the worst part. "Most people who enter the Anomaly never leave," he said, as honest as he could be, no matter how painful the truth was.

He could tell Clarke was holding back an expression of shock as she nodded, absorbing the blow. Then, horror took over as she looked up at him. "Why are you here with me?"

Bellamy didn't hesitate in his answer. He could tell her that it was the only way to get her inside at all, but he preferred the truth, and the truth was this: "I couldn't let you go in alone."

For the first time, a moment of true devastation passed through her, and Bellamy could see it, but he didn't go to her. Not yet. He would let her go to him. "That was so stupid, Bellamy. That was so fucking stupid."

"And I'd do it again, Clarke. You know I would."

Her eyes flickered to his. "Do I know that?" But there was no malice behind those words. It almost sounded like a genuine question. "You shouldn't be here. You're never going to see your family again. You're never going to see Octavia." She bit her lip before adding, "You'll never see Echo."

"I knew the risk I was taking. So did they. They didn't stop me."

"I would have stopped you."

Bellamy smiled. Clarke didn't. "I'd like to have seen you try."

"I was okay with how things were. You shouldn't have…" She trailed off, seeming to find it too painful to speak.

"I'm not going to say sorry, Clarke. I wasn't going to let you die."

She seemed to accept that it was futile to argue with him. "And everything that I've seen? Did that really happen?"

Bellamy felt a momentary flicker of dread. He thought what he'd been seeing was bad. But he didn't dare think about what was happening to Clarke. "Depends."

She paused. Then she took a deep breath and said, "There was a machine on the ring that was going to explode if you didn't watch it. Murphy was on duty and he fell asleep. Did that happen?"

"Did you call me on the rover and tell me you sometimes wondered if Jasper had the right idea?" he asked softly, and Clarke's eyes fluttered closed. He knew she was feeling the pain of being seen, of knowing that someone had watched her at her lowest, just as he understood she picked the memory that would be least painful for him to acknowledge because she would spare him any pain she could.

Her eyes were still closed when she asked, "How much did you see?"

"Everything," he said. Everything that mattered, at least. "You?"

She nodded. "Everything."

And suddenly, it was like the distance between them was too far, much too far, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Clarke," he breathed, pulling her into his arms. She felt so small and so familiar as she buried her nose into his shoulder. He never thought he'd be able to talk to her again. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd thought that, the amount of times that knowledge kept him up at night.

She pulled away first, a bit teary, but holding it together better than he would have. She looked around, at the room in the Ark that was so familiar to them, and presumably, so painful too. "So what now? Why are we here?" And he knew she was asking, why this memory? There were so many other places he was sure they'd both rather be.

The thing was, Bellamy had been thinking about that from the moment he entered the room and he was pretty sure he had the answer. "Because I still don't understand why you left."

Clarke looked away. "I still don't understand why you didn't help me."

"I guess we should start there." And silence hung over them for a long moment, heavy and smothering. He took a deep breath and said, "You left me." It didn't have the anger behind it that it had when he was last in this room with her, but he had to say it. He was starting to wonder if this whole mess started because they didn't know how to be honest with each other.

"I know. I wouldn't do it again," Clarke said. "Look, in Polis -"

"I'm not talking about Polis," he said and her eyes widened, just a little. "I understand that now. I've seen you with Madi, Clarke. If that had been me, I probably would have left too." He grimaced at the words, but he knew they were true. If it had been Octavia and he had to get her out of danger, he wouldn't have thought twice about who he was leaving behind to do it, especially not the person responsible. "I'm talking about Sanctum."

"I guess I left because I thought you didn't need me anymore."

There were those words again. Would he ever be free of them? "That wasn't me, you know that. That was the eclipse."

"I know what the eclipse feels like, Bellamy." She looked at the floor. "I heard my mother's voice over the radio telling me that everyone would be better off without me. The thing was, when the eclipse was over, it still felt true." She looked at him again. "Everyone hated me, Bellamy. Emori. Murphy." She paused for a moment before softly saying, "Raven."

"They didn't hate you, Clarke."

"Well, they did a good job pretending. All I could think about for six years was seeing you again, but when you came down, you had become a family. And I couldn't catch up. I didn't have you and then I didn't even have Madi. And I thought I was just making things worse." She paused for a moment. "But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a little bit selfish, too."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it hurt less to miss you when you weren't right in front of me."

Only someone who knew Clarke as well as Bellamy did would be able to tell how hard it was for her to tell him that. She'd been alone for so long, he knew that now. And when he came back, somehow, she was still alone. That must have been hard to bear. He thought he'd understood before, but he was wrong and he was sorry. But before he could say something to that effect, Clarke turned her eyes on him and asked the question he was dreading to answer.

"So what's your excuse?"

"I don't have a good one," he said. He wanted to tell her that he paid for his mistake, that he walked into the Anomaly with her partly as his penance, that his penance had been watching her dying and knowing that he could have stopped it. But that was a self-indulgent excuse, even if it was a true one. There was a deeper truth and he needed to be brave enough to say it. It was the only way they would escape the Anomaly. "You were right that there was some truth in the eclipse's effects," he said, and Clarke's face fell, just a little. "But when I said what I said, it wasn't because I thought I didn't need you anymore, it was because I was scared I always would. And that you would never need me again."

Clarke shook her head as if she couldn't believe he'd ever thought that was true. He imagined she felt the same way he did while she was telling her side.

"I wanted to talk to you about everything in the morning, but when I woke up, you were gone. And I guess I figured that my psychosis had been right. That you didn't need me. You told me that I had to use my head if I wanted to survive. You remember that?"

Her eyes flashed. "Of course I remember that."

"When you came back, I wasn't. It was like I forgot how. And I didn't exactly have you around to use it for me. Clarke…" He reached for her and this time, she didn't pull back. His fingers tugged at hers gently. It helped to know she was there and she was real and he could touch her. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for making me need you."

Her eyes were big and sad and full of meaning. He hoped she would never forgive him either. But he knew he had to keep going, he had to try and explain why he didn't help her, even though it barely made sense to himself.

"When you left, I thought that our past was just… our past. That it didn't matter to you as much as it mattered to me. I mean, you don't know how I mourned for you on the ring," he said, his voice full of anguish and his face lined with pain. It was still hard to think of those years, even the good times. Because there was a permanent limit to his happiness. Bellamy was starting to think his capacity for happiness got smaller with each loss he experienced.

Clarke's voice was a whisper. "Actually, I kind of do know."

And with a small burst of horror, he realized that was true. But he just held her hand tighter. "So you understand, don't you?"

Clarke smiled. It was a sad smile, but it was still so beautiful. "I guess I do."

But he had to say it. He'd made her say it, after all. "When Murphy told me that you came back, and that it was because of a new threat and not because you wanted to, I felt like I did the last time we were in this room together."

"And how did you feel?" she said, but he knew she remembered.

"I felt like I couldn't march into battle with you again, only for you to abandon me when we had peace. Because even when I thought you were dead, all I wanted was peace with you. Clarke, I dream about that all the time." He paused, looking at her, asking a question that he finally thought he knew the answer to. "Do you ever dream about it too?"

"All the time," Clarke whispered. Then she sat down in the chair, just as she had six years ago. But everything was different now. "I'm sorry for leaving," she said. "I thought it was the right thing to do."

He knelt down by her, taking her hand again. "I'm sorry, too." And that shaky smile he remembered so well appeared on her face.

"So what now?"

"Well, I'm not handcuffing you this time." The half-joke hung in the air for a moment before they both managed to laugh at it. But just as Clarke opened her mouth to say something, Bellamy heard the sound of wind again. The Anomaly was taking them somewhere else.

No, he wanted to say. He had just gotten her back. But a calm washed over him as the world faded to black and her touch drifted away. He would find her again. There was no question about that. He would find her.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The first thing Clarke could register was the strong smell of blood. She opened her eyes to see Bellamy in front of her, looking at her intently. She didn't have to ask if he was still the Bellamy who remembered everything. Somehow, she just knew he was. But Clarke looked around, hearing faint screams and cries, seeing gray ruins. There was a puddle of blood at their feet, but she knew it really belonged on their hands.

Polis. After ALIE. She looked at Bellamy, remembering how grateful she had been for him back then, how grateful she was for him now. "This was when you convinced me not to tell everyone about Praimfaya right away. You were scared of how people would react." Clarke laughed a little. "You were right."

"Yeah, but that wasn't the main reason I said it."

Clarke tilted her head, eyebrows raised. "What other reason did you have?"

"I told you back then. I was worried they might shoot the messenger. Clarke, I'd just fought off an entire army to keep you alive. I at least wanted a good night's sleep before I had to do it again." She laughed again. It was a little freeing being trapped in these memories knowing exactly how they turned out.

"Yeah, well. I guess that's fair."

Bellamy was quiet for a moment and Clarke could see his face get thoughtful and serious. "You know, I really thought that if we just got out of Polis, we'd be in the clear. I thought we'd figure something out. I didn't keep you alive though, not in the end."

"I didn't exactly make it easy," she said kindly. "But we did figure something out."

"Look around you. If these people don't die from radiation, they'll probably die in the fighting pits." He smiled at her, and there was sorrow lined in that smile that Clarke knew would probably never go away. "I thought that if you and I were together in Arkadia, we'd find some way to save everyone. How could I have guessed that in three months, I'd be in space and you'd be…" He trailed off. "And you'd be dead."

Her hand found his. "But I didn't die, Bellamy."

"You did, though, Clarke," he said gently. "Don't you understand that you did?"

She looked away. He was right. For him, she'd been dead six years. And hadn't she died the moment the rocket took off? Hadn't the despair forged her into someone else? "During those six years, I wished you could have heard me so I wouldn't be alone. But now I wish you could have heard me just so you could know I was okay."

"I wish I heard you too. All except the first one."

Clarke knit her eyebrows together. "I don't even remember the first one."

Bellamy looked like he didn't want to relive it, but he sighed, telling her. "You said you thought you were dying. It was the first thing I saw when I entered the Anomaly." He smiled that sad smile again. "I thought maybe I was supposed to spend the six years with you this time."

"I guess the Anomaly had different plans for us."

"All I had time to do was pick you up off the floor before the lab vanished."

Clarke blinked. He'd been able to touch her. She remembered that she'd been able to touch him too. And there was something, in the haze of the fever and the vomiting and the dehydration, that she half-remembered. "Where did you put me?"

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, confused, but he answered her anyway. "On the cot by the work table."

Clarke spoke slowly, making sure she wasn't deluding herself. But if they were in the Anomaly, then anything was possible. "When I woke up, after Praimfaya, I was on the cot." Bellamy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I remember thinking that there was no way I'd climbed up those stairs by myself. It turns out I didn't."

He shook his head. For a moment, Clarke was struck by how beautiful he looked in the light, bloodied and bruised with that beating heart. "So what are you saying?" he asked, the faint traces of hope in his voice.

"Maybe that means we're really here. Maybe we're supposed to change things."

And as if the Anomaly was answering her, the memory faded away as the woman in Polis started screaming.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy found himself standing alone, but he knew exactly where he was before he opened his eyes. The last good day before everything fell to shit. The last good day before Praimfaya. Well, the last good day if you exclude the thirty minutes he thought Clarke might be dead. But the fear of her being dead had paled in comparison to the relief of her rescue. The shaky smile she'd given him after almost running him over.

The wind was warm against his skin. He'd never truly gotten a good spring on the ground. Praimfaya had come just at its peak. It was nice, though, the salty scent of the lake, the day with Clarke, and even the day with Roan, who Bellamy had eventually developed a begrudging respect towards. And then there were those words that had almost come to his lips. Why hadn't he said them? But he remembered why. Clarke had stopped him. He wished she hadn't.

Speaking of Clarke, he saw her in his periphery falling into place next to him. "I was so sad when you told me you were going back," she said.

"I know." Her eyes were piercingly blue, just like he remembered them that day. "I thought I might never see you again."

"Nah," she said, a strange lightness in her tone. He realized it was because she knew where the chips fell. It was because the heaviness of the unknown had fallen away. "I knew you would."

"You never let me finish that day, you know," he said, and he hoped she understood that he was asking her if she'd let him finish now.

But she didn't. "You didn't let me finish at Becca's lab." That was true. But that was because she wasn't telling him she loved him, she was telling him goodbye. And he didn't want to hear that. He'd like to think that had she made it to the ring, the first thing out of his mouth would be "I love you." But he would never know if he would have been that brave. He almost forced the conversation, but Clarke's face was contemplative and she turned to him with a revelation in her eyes. "You went back to Arkadia for Octavia."

His sister's name sent a pang through his heart. Somehow, he still felt responsible for what she had become. But he just said, "I did."

"But she wasn't there."

He was starting to understand what Clarke was saying. "She wasn't."

"What if you came with me this time?" she said, as if that was the solution to all their problems, but Bellamy still felt like something was missing. "We know that nightblood works. If we can test it, and prove it, then the bunker can sustain everyone until the radiation levels have dropped a little. No conclave, no lottery. No Blodreina." The implications of what Clarke was suggesting were staggering. But there was one hitch to her plan.

"But Abby broke the machine."

"Not if you're there to stop her." And when her eyes searched his imploringly, Bellamy was hit with the familiar combination of hope and dread.

"You want to go into the radiation machine."

"Bellamy, maybe we're here because we're supposed to change things. We can save so many people. Think about it. Miller's dad. Bryan. The rest of the 100." She looked behind her. "Roan."

It was compelling, too compelling. But the risk - that was the part Bellamy didn't like. "Clarke, I saw what that much radiation did to you. I went into the Anomaly to save you. This might kill you."

"Except it doesn't," Clarke said. "We know that it doesn't. And this time, it'll be in a controlled environment, with medicine and a doctor. I won't be alone. I'll have my mother." She looked at him again, and she looked so lovely, so hopeful. "I'll have you."

"No way. If we do this, then we make me a nightblood and we put me in the radiation chamber."

Clarke shook her head adamantly. "That's not an option."

"So we can risk your life, but we can't risk mine?"

"Everyone processes nightblood differently, Bellamy. This isn't just about you and me. If you try it and you don't survive, then everyone will assume nightblood doesn't work. We know I can survive it, so it has to be me."

A muscle thrummed along Bellamy's jaw. "I don't like this, Clarke. Besides, what about Madi?"

Clarke looked so sad for a moment, as if that thought hadn't crossed her mind. But he realized that it had. That it was a sacrifice she was already prepared to make. "Her mother will be alive. She'll be okay."

He closed his eyes, and he already knew that he had to do it. This was how he saved Octavia. This was how he saved Jasper, whether Jasper liked it or not. This would make it so Monty and Harper never had to leave them. "Alright. I'll do it. I'll stop her."

Clarke's smile was tentative, but beautiful. He couldn't stop himself from being happy for causing that. He did feel a bit guilty for lying to her, though. He'd go to the lab, but he wouldn't have to stop Abby from breaking the machine. He wouldn't have to stop her, because he'd be injecting himself.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Of course, that plan immediately fell to shit. Because the Anomaly transported them exactly where they wanted to go. They were in Becca's lab. They were together, and presumably they had been for days now. And they were standing over Emori's unconscious body and the needle was in Clarke's arm and she said, looking Bellamy directly in the eyes, "We're testing me." And though Clarke was scared, she was relieved too, because did Bellamy really think she didn't know exactly what he was thinking?

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

They spent those two hours together, the longest that they had lingered in a memory since setting foot in the Anomaly. Clarke said that meant she was right. He spoke to her in hushed tones as Abby paced back and forth, barely keeping it together. "You sure I shouldn't just go stop her now?"

"When she talks about seeing me dying. That's when you have to be ready."

He realized with a dull pang what she was talking about. "Your mom's vision."

"Well, it came true after all, didn't it? I was right." She smiled humorlessly. "I didn't want to be."

Bellamy shook his head, feeling angry, feeling helpless. "Let's just dose me, Clarke. And then you'll already be a nightblood."

"We can't take anymore blood from Luna, not today. Once we have more nightbloods, we can make more nightbloods," she said, speaking so matter of fact, as if anything about this was simple. Bellamy shook his head, at a loss for words. Clarke's hand slid into his, so soft and cold and small. And fragile, he was thinking. What would it look like in ten minutes when it was covered in radiation burns? "Don't you see? It has to be me. The Anomaly just proved it."

Bellamy didn't let go of her hand as Jackson came over to take blood. He didn't pay attention to see if it worked. He knew it did. He was busy studying her face, making sure she was alright for as long as he was allowed to. She didn't look scared. She looked brave. But because she was brave, he knew that meant she was scared too. Well, she probably wasn't as scared as he was.

He'd only seen the aftermath. He hadn't seen it happen. Now he would. God, how could he trust himself to stop Abby when he wanted nothing more than to put a stop to this? But Clarke was right. If this worked, it was worth it.

"It's been two hours," Jackson said. "How do you feel?"

Clarke squeezed Bellamy's hand as a comfort to both of them. "Ready." And like it or not, Bellamy was ready too.

They walked over to the machine together. Abby stepped in front of them. "I won't let you do it."

Clarke shot a glance in Bellamy's direction. Reluctantly, he dropped her hand and got himself ready. "Mom, I trust you. This will work." She looked at Jackson. "Turn it on."

"Jackson, don't. Clarke… if you go in there, you will die. I saw it."

"Mom…" she trailed off, looking apologetically towards Emori. Bellamy realized distantly that he was part of that betrayal now, wasn't he? Well. He'd have to deal with that later.

"I saw it, Clarke," Abby said more urgently, and Clarke's eyes flashed to Bellamy's. Now, he realized. It was coming now.

Abby lunged for a heavy piece of equipment, a long metal rod, but before she could smash it into the glass, Bellamy's hands were around her waist, yanking her backwards. He narrowly dodged a blow from the metal pole, but he wrenched it from her hand and it clattered uselessly to the floor. She was panting and crying, but the machine stood in front of him, intact.

When he was sure that it was safe, he let Abby go and watched as she fell to the floor, muttering, "No, please," under her breath.

"Good instincts, Blake," Roan said casually. Bellamy felt resentment gnaw at him. But when he met Clarke's eyes, she nodded, communicating so many things. He'd gotten used to Clarke's nods and what they meant, and this one unmistakably said thank you.

After a few more tense moments, Abby got to her feet. She looked at Bellamy and he saw nothing but hatred. He probably deserved that. "Out of all the people in this room, I never thought you would be the one to stop me," she whispered viciously.

That makes two of us, Mrs. Griffin, Bellamy thought. But he said nothing.

"Sure you don't wanna cuff her like you did me?" Murphy said, though he looked a little shaken.

"That's not a terrible idea," Roan said, looking at Miller. Miller glanced at Jackson who shook his head, but he started moving anyway. Clarke looked alarmed, regretful, but resigned that this was necessary. Nothing about this day had been good. Bellamy knew that from Clarke's stories, from Murphy and Emori's stories, and now he knew it from being here himself.

But it wasn't a new feeling. Bellamy was used to the collateral damage that occurred when you were doing what had to be done. "Let's do this now," Clarke said, as Abby was being taken away. At least Abby knew when she was defeated, because she was going quietly.

"Clarke, we can wait a little -" Jackson started, but Clarke cut him off.

"No. Let's get it over with." She climbed onto the table, her hands shaking ever-so-slightly. Bellamy quickly wrapped her hand in his. "No matter what happens, it'll be over in a few minutes," she whispered. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Do me a favor and try not to die," Bellamy said, wondering why he wasn't saying everything he'd always wanted to say instead of a half-assed joke. But then he realized that saying it would make the danger real. And he knew she'd be okay. He just knew it.

"I'll try just as hard as last time," she said, smiling just a tiny bit. Then she nodded at Jackson. Bellamy didn't let go of her hand once as Jackson sedated her, not even when it went completely limp in his.

"Bellamy?" Jackson said tentatively. "It's time."

He didn't tear his eyes away from her, but he let her hand fall back to her side as Jackson shut the door to the machine and turned it on. Bellamy didn't focus on what Jackson was saying, the tentative optimism in Jackson's voice as he read aloud the readings. Clarke warned him that she was probably going to wake up at some point during the procedure. The sedative was strong, but not strong enough. She reassured him that if it was anything like the first time, she wouldn't even remember it.

She reassured him that it would probably be worse for him than her. But when it happened, he wasn't really prepared. He watched as her skin burst out in boils, as she screamed and cried, and finally as a little bit of black blood dribbled out of her mouth. He dimly registered Raven yelling for them to turn it off and take her out and Jackson's frantic cries that he couldn't yet. And finally, as the last of the radiation drained away, Clarke's head fell to the side and for a moment, he could tell, everyone thought she was dead.

But, of course, she wasn't. She looked scary sick, and she looked like she was dying. But this was what he had seen after Praimfaya. She was horribly burnt and blistered, surrounded by black blood, but breathing. His feet were glued to the same spot as Jackson opened the chamber. "Roan," he called out, "go get Abby. She's still alive!"

"You mean it actually worked?" Murphy said, pale yet excited.

Jackson was as frank as he had been with Bellamy in Sanctum. "Not if she doesn't get better."

But Bellamy knew she would. For the first time, hope tugged at his heart. The worst was over. And when Clarke opened her eyes, it would be in a new world.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Like she had promised Bellamy. she barely remembered waking up the first few times, except that it was horrible and that she was in pain. Of course, that was still true when she blearily blinked her eyes open to find Bellamy by her bedside. His eyes were gentle and unworried, and that was how she knew everything had gone as planned.

He hadn't wanted to do this for her. But he had done it and she was grateful. "How do you feel?" he murmured.

"Like hell," she said, and her voice came out hoarse and cracked. "Like we did it."

"They're already figuring out how to send word to Arkadia and Polis. Your plan worked, just like your blood did."

"Is my mother okay?"

Bellamy nodded. "She'll probably never forgive me, but she's okay."

"How long was I out?"

"A day and a half, give or take. You were pretty in and out most of the time." He looked down at his hands. "You thought it was after Praimfaya again."

Clarke winced. "Sorry you had to see that."

"I'm not. Because this time I don't have to leave you behind."

She nodded, her spirits lifting at the thought. "No matter what happens, all I know is that you should have been here the first time."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." And then she said something that she had suspected for years, that she had suspected since before the Ark came down and it was just the 100 against the world. "Everything bad happens when we're apart. I've only ever been able to save everyone when you were by my side. It's better when we're together."

There was a release that came with that realization. She was finally able to say to Bellamy what she couldn't say on that beach all that time ago. That she didn't want him to leave, that she wished he could always stay with her. That the world would be better if they could be together forever and for real.

But a sudden fear struck her before he had the time to respond. Because she heard the sound of wind - like wind in the valley - and from the look on his face, he was hearing it as well - like the dropship doors opening - and their world faded to black.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

And then, there they were again, in Polis. And Bellamy knew exactly what day it was. The conclave. How could it be the conclave? He looked at Clarke beside him, coming to the same realization as he was, and he noticed how nice she looked. How healthy. How free from radiation burns. "How are we here?" she asked.

Bellamy shook his head. He had no answer he could give her. He could only follow her as she stormed up to Roan. In the real memory, this was where he'd gone to Octavia. But they were in the Anomaly now. And he wasn't leaving Clarke's side, not after what she'd just told him about them being together.

"What is it?" Roan said impatiently. All Bellamy could think was, you're going to die today. You're going to die and it's going to be over, and you don't even know it.

"Roan," Clarke said, and her voice seemed desperate, which was how Bellamy knew it was futile. "Why are we doing this? What about the nightblood solution?"

Roan looked amused. "Find me proof that it works and I'm sure we'd all gladly call this off."

"It works," she said firmly, and Roan laughed.

"You have good instincts, Wanheda, but I can't rely on them alone. Nightblood stopped being a solution the moment your mother broke the machine."

Clarke looked to Bellamy in a frantic flash, but Bellamy was calm, a privilege given to those who had given up. "You don't understand -"

"No, Clarke. The time for alliances is past." He looked to Bellamy, solemn and noble. "I'll give your sister a good death." And then he was gone.

They stood there in silence for a long couple of moments. Clarke looked devastated. Bellamy just wished he had never put her in that machine at all. "I don't understand," she whispered. "I thought we were supposed to change things."

"I thought so too. I guess we can't."

"I thought we could save everyone."

"I wish we had never put you in that damn machine," he said, and Clarke shook her head.

"No. I think it's important that we tried. That we tried to do better." She looked up at him, so lost and confused. He was still so happy that she was right in front of him, that she was alive. "These memories are just memories," she said, almost sadly, but not quite. He nodded. "So what do we do now?"

Bellamy looked around him. The words that sprang to his lips seemed contradictory to everything he knew about their past. But they felt true. He reached for her hand again, looking back down at her. She was here with him, and she was alive. There was so much sorrow in their histories, but he knew that there was beauty too. He wouldn't have loved her if there hadn't been. So Bellamy just gave her a bittersweet smile and said, "We enjoy it."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

As the cloud of smoke billowed in front of her, Clarke knew exactly where they were. The day they blew up the bridge. She could feel the dried blood on her face, and the slight weakness in her bones. This was a bad day, but she felt suddenly overwhelmed by the presence of the 100 surrounding her, all of them gone now. It seemed Bellamy found it easier to accept that they couldn't change things than she did.

She heard him behind her, voice warm and wistful. "This was the day you tried to explain Oppenheimer to me."

"Yeah, well," Clarke laughed, "that was before I knew how big a nerd you were."

He was quiet for a moment as they watched the smoke cloud grow bigger and bigger. Then he said in a soft voice, "Do you ever wish we could go back here?"

Clarke turned to look at him then, and she was struck with how young he looked. Except for his eyes. His eyes told her that she was looking at the Bellamy who had lived through it all with her. Still, she found herself saying the words meant to soothe both of their minds instead of the honest answer. "I don't really think about it all that much."

But Bellamy knew her too well. "I know that's not true, Clarke. I saw your picture of me."

She wanted to ask, which one? But she knew the one he was talking about. The one of him looking down at her with blood-rimmed eyes as something between them became understood. We will become death, destroyer of worlds and grounders and Mount Weather and ALIE and Maya and Jasper and the whole fucking planet, but we would do it together. At least, that was what she had felt. "Okay, fine. Some days, going back here is all I think about."

"I miss when I didn't have to worry about Octavia," he said. Clarke shot him a skeptical look. "Okay, I always had to worry about her. I just miss when I didn't have to worry about who she would hurt."

"I miss when people knew me as Clarke instead of Wanheda," she said quietly. When people knew her for the lives she saved instead of the lives she destroyed. When she was a person, not a weapon. When she hadn't done anything to lose her people's love. Tears started springing to her eyes as she looked around her at the 100, so bloody and so young and so beautiful. "I miss when all our friends were alive."

"I miss when we were only scared for our people and not the entire human race."

"Guess we didn't know how good we had it," she said sarcastically. Because the truth was that it had always been awful. But it had only gotten worse. Would they ever know peace?

"Yeah, well, if you ask me, princess suits you way better than Wanheda."

It was strange. Clarke had thought the girl she was at the dropship was long since dead, but now she wasn't so sure. Maybe that girl was still inside her somewhere, with her hope and her earnestness and her healing hands. At least Bellamy sure seemed to think so.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Watching her sleep this time was just as intimate and wonderful as it had been in the real memory. He hadn't realized how glad he was she was alive until she was throwing herself into his arms. He hadn't let himself think about it. But when he saw her again, for the first time since she closed the dropship door, he realized that he was in far deeper than he'd thought.

When did you realize, Clarke? he thought as she stirred. Did you ever?

Her eyes blinked open, instantly finding his, and this time, Bellamy didn't look away. "I wish we stayed here. I wish we never had to go back or forward," she said.

"Why?" he asked, but he knew why.

"Because what we found was horrible."

It was. Murphy's screams for Finn to stop - that was an image Bellamy hadn't expected to see. He could only imagine how it affected Clarke. The truth was, she was never the same after killing Finn. And Bellamy knew that part of her always blamed herself, not just for his death, but for all the people he killed in her name. He would have taken that burden from her, but he didn't know how and she didn't know how to give it away.

"Do you remember what you said to me here?"

Clarke shook her head. "No. But I remember what you told me."

"You said I did the right thing by sending Finn and Murphy out with guns."

Clarke looked at him for a moment, before saying, "That's not what I said. I said it had to be done. Bellamy, you couldn't have known what he would do." She looked away, sadly. "No one could have."

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to Finn if he'd never had to see war. Hell, I wonder what would have happened to me." They were quiet for a moment, both thinking about lives that would never seem real to them. But his mind wandered back to this moment, when he knew he'd fucked up and Clarke told him that he had made the right call, which was really just another way to say that she trusted him. And he was stunned by how hard it was to lose that trust. After Pike, he'd been sure things would never be the same again. But she'd never let him doubt her trust for a moment.

But when Bellamy realized the moment that he did lose that trust, he felt the sudden need to say something. "I'm sorry I put the chip in Madi's head."

Clarke's face fell as the real world and all its unpleasantness came roaring back. "It's over, Bellamy. We don't have to talk about it."

"Yes, we do. I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have done it, but… I thought it was the only way to save you. I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry."

"Octavia was right," Clarke said, and he knew she was about to let him off the hook. "Six years is a long time."

"Not long enough to forget what's important. And if we ever get out of here, I won't forget again. I promise."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"You think we'll ever get that drink?" Bellamy said, and Clarke realized they were outside the walls of Arkadia. When she left and he stayed. The day she'd irradiated Mount Weather and she was never the same again. Was Bellamy? Clarke thought of everything that happened afterward, Pike, Lincoln, and realized that he wasn't. That today had changed everything for him too. She wondered what kind of people they could have become without the blood of Mount Weather staining their hands.

And she knew that part of why Bellamy was never the same again was because she had made him heal alone. "I hope so," Clarke said. "I don't think I've had a drink since Unity Day."

Bellamy laughed, and she could see the memory lighting up in his eyes. "I'll tell you, Monty's moonshine never got less lethal."

"Yeah, I saw." It slipped out casually, as if she'd forgotten the context. As if she'd forgotten how awful it had been for him that night on the ring. She supposed she had.

"You did?" His face was serious now. Serious, and a little embarrassed too. But before she could say anything, he changed the subject. "Well, you weren't there, but I did go inside and have that drink for both of us after you left."

Clarke was quiet. It took being here, back where she'd said goodbye, when she had the chance to do it again, to realize what she'd wondered about was actually true. "I shouldn't have left."

Bellamy looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What?"

"I thought that seeing their faces would remind me of what I did. But everything reminded me of what I did. I wondered, after everything that happened, if maybe I would have been able to heal better if I could have healed with you." Actually, she wondered if she would have been able to heal at all. She thought that running away would help, just like she'd thought that on Sanctum. She had felt buried under the weight of her sins. She was pretty sure she always would.

But Bellamy didn't respond. He didn't have to. She knew that he had wanted her to stay and that he had wanted her to come home. Instead, he wrapped her in his arms, whispering in her ear, "You don't have to bear it anymore."

"Yes, I do," she said, and he sighed like he knew she'd say that.

"Okay. But you don't have to bear it alone."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It was the day Sinclair died. Almost all of these memories could be marked with death. But as Clarke ran towards him, desperate and out of breath, it didn't matter that six years had passed, and it didn't matter that he was lost in thought and memory. His arms went out to catch her without even thinking about it, just as they had before. It was in his blood.

"As soon as I saw you," Clarke whispered as he held her, "I wasn't scared anymore."

Bellamy thought that was funny because he'd been scared shitless. "Yeah, and why's that?"

"Because," she said softly, "I knew you'd catch me."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

As soon as the next memory started, Clarke hoped it wouldn't last too long. Because if it did, then she'd have to see Lexa again. And she'd have to have the flame put in her head and to her recollection, that had hurt like a bitch. She didn't know if her mother was real or if she was just part of the memory, but she decided to talk to Bellamy as if he was the only person in the room.

"You know, I really didn't think we'd make it through this one," Bellamy said.

She heard, for a moment, Monty's voice in her head saying "Ye of little faith." But she'd been worried, too. ALIE wasn't like most of the opponents they had fought. And, like usual, it was all on Clarke's shoulders. If she failed, everyone died. Of course, that was before she realized that everyone would die no matter what she did. "After we found out about Praimfaya, I didn't have time to thank you."

"You did thank me, Clarke."

"Not for keeping me alive. For making me less afraid." She slipped her hand into his, and even though it wasn't shaking this time, his touch was still a comfort.

"It's like you said. I always feel better about our odds when we're together."

Clarke smiled a little, but it faded. She remembered the valley, the gorge. The risk that she'd taken. "I'm sorry we weren't on the same side in the last war. I hope it's the last battle we'll ever have to fight."

But she was pretty sure they both knew they'd be fighting a battle every day. Clarke just hoped they'd be fighting together.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy roused himself from a fitful sleep, and for a moment, he thought his time in the Anomaly had been a dream. But then he realized he was in Arkadia. And this was the night Clarke had made the list. When he opened his eyes, she was staring at it numbly. "This was the night you saved my life," she said softly.

"I never understood why you put my name and not yours."

Clarke shook her head. "I didn't even think about it," she said, looking at him with such unabashed love in her eyes. "It was the easiest decision I'd ever made."

"So was writing down yours. Why didn't you?" He'd never asked her this, because he thought he understood. He still thought he understood. It was the same reason he hadn't wanted a place inside. But if his time in the Anomaly had taught him anything, it was that there was a lot he had been wrong about.

"Because the people on the list were supposed to rebuild humanity. The list was about renewal. No one needed _wanheda _to survive."

"I did." He laid his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't want to be on that list if you weren't on it. I'd rather have been outside the doors with you." And he hoped she knew that the same was still true. It was why he had carried her into the Anomaly. He would rather be trapped here with her than anywhere else without her. "Things haven't changed that much, Clarke. I still have hope. Because you're still breathing."

"Bellamy…" she whispered, and she didn't have to say thank you. There was nothing Clarke could say that he didn't already know, somehow, in some hidden part of his heart.

"Don't give me too much credit. You saved my life first." And with those words, the Anomaly took him there, to that first night when everything between them changed.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Even though she knew it was just part of the memory, Clarke hated seeing his face so bloody and beaten. But the pain in her gut reminded her of just how he'd gotten it. Dax was the first person Bellamy had ever killed and she knew that it tore him up inside, even though he'd done it to save her.

The tears in his eyes were still there. "You know, I almost asked you to run away with me."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he said huskily. "I almost said screw everyone else. But I knew you never would have gone for that."

"Neither would you. You had Octavia," she said, and he nodded, though he looked tired. She knew that the memory of his sister still weighed heavily on him. She hoped one day he would stop blaming himself for what happened to her. "And you wouldn't have left the one hundred either."

"No. But it's a nice dream, isn't it?"

It was. Clarke imagined them running to the sea. Maybe Luna would have taken them in if they showed up before their hands were permanently stained with the blood of the people they had failed to save. Just her and Bellamy, alone against the world, that was more than just a nice dream. It was her only dream.

"You were the only one who had ever forgiven me. You were the only one who could see that I needed to be forgiven."

"Forgiven for what, Bellamy?"

"For not being able to protect Octavia. For not being able to save my mother. Maybe for everything I knew was capable of."

"I think we were all capable of more than we thought we would be."

"You were the first person who didn't share my blood who told me that they needed me. That changed my life, Clarke. That saved it."

"Bellamy," she whispered, feeling her own eyes grow misty, "how could you ever have thought I stopped?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The next memory was a warmer one. It was one that Bellamy didn't want to end. Unity Day. He scanned the crowd of delinquents, almost devastated to see how alive and… happy they all were. He knew they didn't totally like that the Ark was coming down with guns. But they were relieved that someone would be taking care of them again. And of course, that plan had failed. Every person who was meant to take care of them, ultimately, had failed. The only person Bellamy had managed to protect until the end was Murphy. And that wasn't really Bellamy's doing, was it? Murphy had done that himself. So really, the only delinquent still standing because of Bellamy was… Clarke. That is, if they got out of the Anomaly. And Bellamy thought, for just a moment, that if he could save Clarke, if he could keep her alive for just a little bit longer, then maybe he'd be able to forgive himself for the deaths of the 100.

Eighteen dead, he remembered saying to Clarke. And, knowing exactly what he needed, Clarke had reminded him of everyone still alive. She told him that he'd done a good job. Bellamy wished it could be Unity Day forever, partly because - apart from the ring - this was the only place where he felt like he really had done good. And on the ring, Clarke was dead. So doing good, for a long time, had barely even mattered.

"You know," Clarke said, looking so young and so light, just as beautiful as she had that night, "this was the first time I felt like we were actually friends."

Bellamy thought that was funny, because he'd been trying to flirt with her all night. "This was a good night, wasn't it? Before Spacewalker came and ruined it all."

Clarke's smile dimmed, but it didn't fade. He knew how painful Finn's memory would always be for her. He wondered if she'd ever be able to forgive herself. But right now, she didn't let the memory of what she would have to do to him ruin this memory. They never thought they would get this again, this night with these people, hope displayed so proudly on their faces. So, she just said, "Yeah. It was a good night. Maybe one of the best of my life. How pathetic is that?" she said, laughing, but he knew what she meant.

"You know what the best day of my life was?"

She looked at him, and he had a feeling she already knew what he was going to say.

"The day I found out you were still alive." He didn't care what had happened afterwards, the betrayals, the abandonment, his sister, her daughter. Holding her in his arms again after six years spent apart had been nothing short of miraculous.

"That was the best day of my life too," she whispered.

"Electrocution and all?" he said, trying to joke, to recapture the light feeling from earlier.

"Yeah, well, excluding that part."

A thought occurred to Bellamy then, and he felt almost shy voicing it. But he looked at Clarke, the girl he loved, after time and loss had taken so much away from them it was a miracle they were still even remotely intact, and he realized that they were brought here for a reason. Maybe they weren't supposed to change things, maybe they weren't even supposed to learn things, though Bellamy had learned a lot. Maybe they were just supposed to have chances to do what they never could before. So Bellamy just said, "What do you say we finally have that drink?"

From there, the night was easy and light. His gaze might have lingered on Monroe too long, and he wished more than anything he could stop what would happen with Pike. He wished Lincoln was here, just to get one more moment with him, to say he was sorry, to say he was proud his sister had loved a man as kind and as good as he was. But everything inside of him nearly fell to pieces when he saw Jasper.

He was glowing in the firelight, and he looked so goddamned happy to be here, to be alive. Bellamy walked up to him slowly, Clarke trailing behind him. "Hey, it's mom and dad!" Jasper called out, grinning. "Here for some unity juice?"

Bellamy found himself at a loss for words, so moved and so heartbroken by his friend's smiling face. So Clarke cut in. "Pour out two," she said, seeming surprisingly at ease.

And then Jasper, grabbing the moonshine, said to her, "Anything for my savior." Clarke froze, and Bellamy saw her eyes get a little shiny. She suddenly pulled Jasper into a tight hug.

"Whoa," he laughed. "What is this for?" He looked at Bellamy over Clarke's shoulder and whispered, "Looks like someone's already had a bit too much, huh?"

"No," Clarke said quietly, so only Jasper and Bellamy could hear. "I just wanted to tell you that… you're really important to me, Jasper. And I would do anything to keep you safe."

"Okay, okay," he said, prying Clarke off of him, "I love you too." He said this so casually, so nonchalantly, saying it without thinking about it. "Are you sure you want another drink?"

"Just give the princess what she wants," Bellamy said gruffly.

"Your wish is my command," Jasper said, doing a little salute. Bellamy was reminded of the last time he ever saw him, that bitter smile, that sarcastic salute. But for a while, Jasper really had been Bellamy's second-in-command. He had trusted Bellamy. But when Bellamy irradiated Mount Weather, he had let Jasper down. But Bellamy was fine letting him down to save his life.

In the end, though, he couldn't. He took the drink Jasper poured out for him and he looked back at Clarke. It felt good to know that they were going through the same rush of emotions, no matter how painful it was. Bellamy raised his cup. "To one of the bravest people I ever knew," he said, toasting to Jasper who looked embarrassed and pleased.

"Wow, you guys are sappy drunks. I'm gonna go before one of you starts trying to make out with me. Don't have too much fun," he said, winking and turning to go. Bellamy looked at Clarke, a sad smile on both of their faces as they watched their friend disappear into the crowd.

He felt the burn of alcohol down his throat, but it was a good kind of burn, because he knew that Clarke felt it too. He knew that they were having this drink together. And it wasn't just a toast to Jasper, and it wasn't just a Unity Day celebration. It was a drink for everything they had been through together, everything they had survived, and for everyone who hadn't in the end. It was for Jasper, but it was also for Wells, Finn, Monroe, Lincoln, Lexa, Harper, Monty. It was for Octavia. It was for Madi. It was for Clarke and it was for Bellamy and they were drinking for their history and maybe their future too.

It was the best damned drink Bellamy ever had.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The warm glow of Unity Day contrasted with the harsh winds of Praimfaya was about as unwelcome a transition as Clarke could get. She didn't want to be here, on the worst day of her life. Especially because it had almost become one of the best. But she wasn't inside Becca's lab. She was outside with Raven and Bellamy and Murphy, and he was about to leave, and they couldn't change this memory, no matter how much they wanted to. "Bellamy," she said, as she had said before.

"What, Clarke?" he said in a pained voice and Clarke knew that this was as painful for him as it was for her.

"I wish I had said more than just hurry."

She saw the flash of surprise on his face, overwhelmed by the shadow of despair. "Why didn't you?" he asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

She swallowed hard, getting as close to the truth as she felt capable of. "I didn't want it to be goodbye."

But just like before, even though it looked like the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, Bellamy disappeared into the woods with Murphy. Because he always left her there. No matter what. They couldn't change that. They couldn't make a better choice because there was no better choice.

And she stayed there, watching him disappear through the trees. And the memory couldn't end soon enough.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

His relief at seeing Clarke on the beach, walking up to him, was palpable. He hated that memory. Any memory of Praimfaya. But what she'd said - that she hadn't said what she'd wanted to say because she was scared it would be the last time… Their past meant everything to him. But he was tired of living in it. He stood there, on the beach in the dark, the night before they came to Luna's rig. He knew what this memory was, and it was one of his most treasured, one of the ones he held nearest to his heart.

Clarke was the first one to speak, but from the haunted look in her eyes, he knew she was still trapped in Praimfaya, reliving that last memory. "This was the day you forgave me for leaving," she said.

"That's not what I remember most about it."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "It's not?"

He was only able to forgive her because of what she had said. She had told him that what he'd feared was just a fear, and nothing more. "You told me you needed me," he said. She had told him that after he was so scared that she didn't anymore. "Do you still?" he asked softly.

"You know I do," Clarke replied, and her answer was unhesitating.

"And you know the same." She looked away. But Bellamy had more to say - too much to say. "I know that you spent those six years wishing we could go back here. I know that you were hoping things would be the same when I came back down. I know that because I wanted the exact same thing. I wanted it so bad I thought it would kill me. Hell, when these memories started, I was almost happy." He paused, waiting until she looked at him again, because what he was going to say next was important. Too important for her to be looking away because she was scared. He was scared too. But he was tired of letting that fear hold him back. "But we can't go back here, can we? We've changed."

Slowly, Clarke nodded. "Yes. We have."

"Clarke, my feelings have changed, but they haven't faded. I don't want the past back. Not anymore. I want the future. With you. I want to see what peace with you feels like. I want the dream we talked about. There are things I want to say to you, not because I might never get the chance to say them again, but just because they're true." More than anything, he wished she didn't have to regret only saying hurry. He wished that there had been time on the ring for everything they had waited to say. But he didn't want to wait anymore, and he didn't want to say it now. He wanted to say it on Sanctum, when there were no threats breathing down their neck, when there was no fear of life and death. When she could know how much he meant it.

"What are you saying?"  
He took a deep breath. "Clarke, I want to leave the Anomaly."

She bit her lip, taking a step closer to him. Then she pulled him into a hug, nuzzling her nose into his neck like she always did. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's leave."

As if on cue, the boat pulled up, but the grounders inside didn't tie them up this time. They led them to the fire, wordlessly. Bellamy didn't let go of Clarke's hand. But he did look at his sister. "I'm sorry, O. For what happened to you"

To his surprise, she smiled softly. "I know, big brother. But it's not your fault."

"I don't know how to help you. But when I get out of here, I'm going to try."

"Of course you are. But don't try too hard. I'm not your responsibility. Not anymore."

Bellamy knew she was only saying that because he had finally, finally realized it. But it felt so good to hear her say it. Clarke squeezed his hand, and he knew she was saying she was proud.

The grounder produced two vials, but the liquid looked different this time. It wasn't a clear color. It didn't smell like berries. Instead, it was a glowing green. And he knew that if he drank it, he would be free. He looked at Clarke, so young and so beautiful, her hair so long and that ring of bruises around her eye. He was dying to know how old age would look on her. For the first time, he thought he had a chance at finding out. "Together," he said.

Then he dropped her hand.

He downed the drink.

And he felt himself disappearing.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Moments later, he was walking out of the Anomaly, feeling older, but rejuvenated. The stab wound on his knee that had reduced itself to a dull ache before everything with the Hexians had happened wasn't paining him at all now. The Anomaly had healed him. He looked down at Clarke in his arms, and she didn't look pale at all. So it had healed her too.

He was back on Sanctum and it was night time, but all of his friends were gone. How much time had passed? But that question could be answered later. He knelt on the forest floor, Clarke still cradled in his arms. He just had to wait for her to wake up.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Then another.

And Bellamy suddenly had a very, very bad feeling.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke had watched numbly as Bellamy, instead of falling to the ground, disappeared in a shimmer of green light. She had meant to take the drink. He wanted to leave. She didn't want him to be trapped there anymore.

But then she thought of Raven. Of Murphy. Then she thought of Echo. She thought of the life waiting for her outside the Anomaly, and for a moment, it had scared her to death. And once the moment had gone, Bellamy had gone with it. She could still leave, but the green light was fading. And without Bellamy here, her resolve to leave was fading with it.

She lowered her hand, but she didn't watch as the vial slipped through her fingers and shattered on the hard dirt to the sound of wind in the valley. She couldn't leave the Anomaly now. Not even if she wanted to.


	11. Chapter 11

There were some things in life that you just inexplicably knew. And though Clarke was in Bellamy's arms, and he could touch her and hold her, he knew that she was still in the Anomaly. At least, that was his strongest guess. It was better than a confirmation of his worst fear: that he'd been so focused on getting them out that he'd forgotten what had put them in there in the first place. Maybe there was something they were supposed to do to save her and he hadn't done enough.

But believing that would require Bellamy giving up on Clarke. So instead of taking a moment to think, he picked her up, just as he had done before, and ran headfirst back into the Anomaly…

… only to find himself walking out the other side. No, not the other side. The same side. The Anomaly had spit him back out. Had he wasted his only chance to save her? He couldn't accept that. So he went in again… and came out again. And Bellamy would keep trying for a long time, but in about an hour he would come to realize that he had to try something else.

Not now, though. For now, he would keep going until his arms were sore and his legs were tired and he felt the age of those extra six years weighing on him. He would keep going until he found his way back to her.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

There were some things in life that you just inexplicably knew. And when Clarke found herself back in Becca's lab, she somehow understood that the barrage of memories was over, that she wouldn't be thrown into another one. Not now that Bellamy was gone. And yet, in the back of her mind, she'd known she would end up here eventually.

Becca's lab, the day of Praimfaya. Not the days she spent dying and alone, not the moment Bellamy left her. Clarke found herself standing where Raven had been standing when they'd arrived. And she watched as her friends came down the stairs. Echo and Emori first, then Harper, grinning at her. Murphy next with a begrudging smile, and Monty with his kind gaze. Raven made her way down the stairs looking so happy to see her that Clarke felt her heart constrict.

The thing was, she would never tell Bellamy this, or any of her friends for that matter, but there had been a moment that day, just for a little while, when Clarke really thought they were going to make it. When she truly believed that she would have five years in space with the people she loved most in the world. With the person she loved most in the world. Where it would be hard, but she'd be protected, and people would take care of her and let her take care of them back. Where she'd be part of a team, a family. Where she'd have peace, even if it was a temporary peace. And just being in the lab, working side by side with her friends, working towards something not for the sake of humanity, but the sake of themselves had been a blessing in and of itself. Before it became the worst day of her life, it had been one of the best.

She looked at them all, standing in a row, all the people she had loved and fought for. Of course, there was one notable absence, but Clarke wasn't worried. As soon as she thought of Bellamy, he appeared, backlit by the tinny artificial lights, but more beautiful than she could have imagined. He looked so much younger, his head full of curls and his jaw clean-shaven. He smiled at her from the top of the stairs. "Welcome home, Princess. We've been waiting for you," he said, and for once, everything in Clarke's world felt right.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Nothing in this new world had ever felt right to Bellamy. On Earth, they'd had their fair share of losses, but it still, at the end of the day, had felt like home. Earth was where he had fallen in love. Earth had been the dream. Sanctum was supposed to be their second chance, but from the moment they got there, he'd never felt more alone. How could that be true when all his friends from the ring were with him?

The answer was simple. He had refused to come to terms with never seeing Clarke Griffin again. On the ring, he'd had to. But not down here. Not when she left him, not when she was stung, and certainly not now. He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd been in the Anomaly. Maybe his friends were long gone. Maybe they were the only two left on Sanctum.

And maybe he'd never find his way out of this forest. But he was going to try. He was so tired. He just wanted to be with her. He wanted the worry to wash away. He wanted them to have a real chance for peace. But he could make this final journey, his one last attempt to save her - only this time, he didn't know what he was saving her from.

Still, with Clarke in his aching arms, he walked the path he vaguely remembered, in the hopes that he could at least make his way to his friends again. Call him a coward, call him weak. Point out the fact that he was crying. The truth was, he hadn't even tried to formulate a plan. The only thing he knew was that he really didn't want to be alone right now.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

The first person to hug her was Harper, and it was more comforting than Clarke would have believed. "I missed you," Clarke whispered in her ear. "I wish I knew you better." Harper just giggled, a soft, joyful sound.

"Clarke, I think you knew me at my best."

Clarke pulled away. "Did I?"

"Who knows? But that's what you remember."

That was true. Everything she remembered about Harper made her one of the best people Clarke had the privilege of meeting. Standing up against Pike, surviving Mount Weather, and maybe most importantly, choosing to live when it would have been so easy to stay behind. That was brave. With an unpleasant shudder, Clarke realized it was braver than she was being right now.

But then Murphy was standing in front of her, in that orange jumpsuit she remembered, and he didn't hug her, but he still looked happy to see her. "Hey, Griffin. Good to see you." And he held out his hand for her to take, a sign of friendship, of solidarity. Clarke remembered the night that Lexa died, when she was locked in that room with Murphy all alone. It was the first time she'd seen him since before Finn had died. She remembered blaming him for that, but they both knew she only blamed him because she was trying so hard not to blame herself.

The first thing Murphy had asked was, "So, how'd Spacewalker get out of that scrape?"

Clarke had taken a sharp breath, trying to shove down her grief. "He didn't."

When Murphy raised his eyebrows, he almost looked amused. But then he looked at the bloodstains on Lexa's bed and at Clarke who was still trying not to cry, and he was almost kind when he said, "Sounds like I've missed a lot. Care to fill me in, Princess?"

"Actually," Clarke had said, "they call me Wanheda now."

So she'd told him about Mount Weather, about everything she'd had to do and everything they'd come close to getting, about leaving her people behind, about running away. And she hadn't understood why he seemed so different until he told her about Emori. Watching Lexa die because of a bullet that was meant for her had almost convinced Clarke that Lexa had been right. That love was weakness. But Murphy changed her mind about that in one night, by showing what one person's love could change. Murphy, who had never been loved or taken care of. He had turned into someone she could be proud of. Distantly, Clarke wished she could tell him that in the real world.

But this felt real. And the Murphy in front of her was solid and vivid and he wasn't sneering at the sight of her. But before she saw it coming, Raven came barrelling into her arms. Maybe that was because Clarke was looking forward to being with the Raven who had greeted her the day of Praimfaya. "I'd still pick you first, you know," Clarke said in her friend's ear. "You're the first person I'd want on any team."

Raven laughed, just as Harper had, and Clarke remained stunned by how lighthearted and happy everyone seemed to be. She didn't think she had ever seen them like this. "Of course you would."

"Have I ever told you that you're probably the best person I know?" Clarke whispered, and Raven just hugged her tighter, telling her that she already knew how Clarke felt.

Even though Raven was the best person Clarke knew, she wasn't her favorite person. And that was who she wanted to hug next. For once, Bellamy's hug was casual, just because he wanted to, not because they both had the overwhelming need for each other's touch, like it usually felt for Clarke. No words were spoken between them until they pulled away, which wasn't for several long moments.

For a while, they just looked at each other. Bellamy was the first to speak. "You know I'm not really him, don't you?" He said this gently, kindly, with his hand still holding hers.

"I know," Clarke said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, and how's that?" Murphy asked, though he asked like he already knew the answer.

There were many reasons. Because your eyes are younger, because of how happy you seem, because just like I could never draw you exactly right, I can't imagine you perfectly either. But she just said the reason that felt the most true. "Because you're not trying to get me to find a way out." In short, because he was okay with her giving up. The real Bellamy would never have let her do this. But this Bellamy was happy she was here, because she was happy to be here. And though the people around her were nothing more than extensions of her memory, they felt real to her.

But there was one of her friends who she hadn't hugged yet, and when she looked over, he had a very familiar expression on his face. Monty Green, always the voice of reason. "Maybe he's not the one trying."

And Clarke knew that staying here was going to be harder than she thought.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

After what felt like hours, but really might have only been minutes, Bellamy found his way to the compound. It seemed like years ago since they'd landed there, since they'd talked about her radio calls and suffered the effects of the eclipse. She was still in his arms, but good god, he missed her. And he wasn't prepared to miss her forever.

The suns were only just rising, but the compound was empty. For a second, he wondered if it was abandoned. The door to the makeshift medical lab stood open. It was strange that he was here again. He had been so sure it was going to work, that he and Clarke would leave the Anomaly and everything would be okay. Now, he just felt numb. No one was in the medical room and the cot was empty. He laid Clarke down gently, letting his fingers stroke her hair, letting his eyes linger on her sleeping form before turning away. His arms immediately felt the relief of the weight he no longer had to carry, but a deeper part of him missed having her so close.

Except, truthfully, it didn't feel like she was really there. It felt like she was somewhere far away.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke wondered what Bellamy, the real Bellamy, was doing now. She knew he must be hurting and she felt sorry for that, but when she was watching the Bellamy of her memories in front of her, so happy, smiling at her so deeply, it was hard to feel the urge to get back to the real one. For all she knew, that Bellamy didn't really exist and this one was real. That was how it felt right now. And Clarke was tired of being tired.

She stood in Becca's lab and watched her friends work. She knew that they weren't going to stop working, she knew that this day would never end, and it certainly would never end with her staying behind. Everything she used to be so worried about felt so far away. Was this what it would have been like if she had made it on the ring?

It was the happiest Clarke had been in a long time. And if Monty kept glancing her way or trying to force a conversation, well. It wasn't too hard to avoid him.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy was starting to feel despair overwhelm him when no one answered Jackson's door. This was where he and Miller had been staying before… before everything. Bellamy knew that the people of Sanctum were back, and maybe someone else had moved back in, but no one was answering at all. He stood there for a long minute, but then he left - Clarke was all alone, and he knew he couldn't leave her for too long. So he went to the next person he could think of: to Raven.

His voice was failing him, and honestly, so was his strength. Bellamy wondered if it was his time in the Anomaly that made him need a good night's sleep so desperately, or the fact that he had spent all night running pointlessly running towards it. So he wordlessly banged on her door. And waited. He didn't want to say her name, in fear that there would be no answer. It was all he could do to knock.

But within thirty seconds the door swung open, and it wasn't a random Sanctumite, and thirty years didn't seem to have passed, it was just Raven Reyes, looking pretty much the same as he remembered her.

"Bellamy? Oh my god," she said. He knew she wanted to hug him, but six years was long enough to get to know each other, and she must have been able to read something on his face, because she sat back on her heels, a bit wary.

"Where's Jackson?"

"He and Miller are at the hospital. Some Sanctum doctor's showing him the ropes." Then, she asked the question she must have been thinking the moment she saw him. "Where's Clarke?"

Bellamy couldn't answer that question right now. He didn't feel up to answering anything. "She's in the med tent. Can you get Jackson and meet me there?"

"Yeah, of course," Raven said, and Bellamy could see her subtly shifting into her problem-solver mode. He felt better knowing that she was on his side. He'd always been grateful for Raven's help. But as he turned to leave, she grabbed his wrist.

Turned out, he was getting that hug anyway. She threw her arms around his neck and didn't let go until Bellamy hugged her back. "I'm really glad you're okay," she whispered. And then she disappeared into the early morning sunrise, and Bellamy started on the long walk back to Clarke's side.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy was by her side, absent-mindedly looking over the schematics for the rocket. He was almost lazy about it, and Clarke knew that was because there was no real rush anymore. It was nice to sit in silence with him, without the need to put things right or solve a problem or say goodbye. It was nice to have time. But as her mind drifted, he vocalized what she had been thinking in spite of herself: "Do you think I'm out there feeling abandoned again?"

Clarke blinked, stunned. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you've been thinking it."

She was quiet for a long moment. "My decision to stay here has nothing to do with you, Bellamy."

"Yes, it does, Clarke," he said, not unkindly. "You know it does."

"It was different in here," Clarke blurted out. "It was different when we were in our memories, when everything was like it used to be. But you have a new family now." She bit her lip. "You have Echo."

"I have Echo," he said.

"So things can't be the same again."

"No, they can't."

Clarke looked down, smiling sadly. "You know, when I shut that bunker door, I thought… I guess I thought that you'd never forgive me."

"Then I didn't even last thirty minutes."

Clarke laughed. It felt good to laugh. "If I ever do leave the Anomaly, do you think you'd ever be able to forgive me for staying?"

Bellamy's face was kind and understanding. "Come here," he said, pulling her close. She remembered what it was like when he'd hugged her during Praimfaya, after the radio had cut out. It felt just like it felt now. Like he knew exactly how to comfort her, like her pain was his pain too. "I don't need to forgive you, Clarke," he said when she pulled away. "I want you to stay."

That surprised her. "Why?"

"Because you want to stay," he said, shrugging, reminding her that this memory belonged to her, that this wasn't Bellamy but an expression of the deepest part of her. That it was her heart talking, and her heart wanted her here.  
She turned her head towards Monty, who was looking at her expectantly. Like he knew that she would come to him eventually. "He wants me to stay."

Monty nodded. "Everyone does."

If Clarke was really staying here, then it was time to confront why. "So why don't you?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Within five minutes, Bellamy and Clarke were no longer alone. Jackson was the first to arrive, Miller and Raven trailing in behind him. And somehow, Murphy had managed to join the group. It was just Skaikru, or the last lingering traces of it. He barely registered Elysia slipping inside, unnoticed, allowing the group their moments of quiet grief and worry. Their faces were solemn and concerned as they stood around Clarke who was lying in the same position as they'd last seen her. "What happened?" Raven said, in a quiet voice. "What happened in there?"

Bellamy remembered everything with vivid detail, but somehow, he knew that he couldn't tell them. That somehow, it was supposed to be a secret. This sacred adventure he'd taken with Clarke would stay there in the Anomaly, and would exist between them and them alone. "I don't know," he said to Raven. "I don't know how to explain it."

"I don't understand," Miller said. "Why didn't that work?"

"Maybe it did," Jackson said, and maybe he only said it because he knew that Bellamy needed hope, but it worked. "How long has she been out?"

Bellamy shrugged. "All night."

"I'll need to run some tests. But her pulse is much stronger than it was." Jackson's gaze lingered on Bellamy a moment. "I think I should check you out, too."

Bellamy was shaking his head, about to say that Clarke was the priority, that he knew he'd at least make it through the night. But Elysia stepped out from the shadows and said, "Focus on Clarke. I can examine Bellamy."

Jackson nodded and got to work. Elysia led him to the corner of the room, placing him in a chair pointed away from Clarke so he couldn't see her. Even though he felt a duty to remain by her side until the end, he felt silently grateful for the momentary reprieve. "You're a doctor?" Bellamy asked, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded. It felt strange, almost absurd, to make small talk right now. But he felt different from before the Anomaly. When Clarke was dying then, he felt the need to fight, to talk to her, to let her know that he wasn't giving up. But he was tired of fighting. He felt numb. He felt exhausted.

"I'm training to be a healer, yes," Elysia said as she took his pulse. "Clarke told me she was a healer too."

Bellamy nodded, a faint smile growing on his face. "She still is." He was quiet for a long moment. "I used to exaggerate little injuries just for an excuse to come to her tent and get her to check me out. She was always so annoyed with me when I got hurt. She got this crinkle right between her eyes." He laughed a little, in spite of himself. "But she was always so gentle. That was why I did it."

Elysia listened with a plaintive expression. Then she said, "I wish I knew what transpired in the Anomaly. I'm not one of your people, but I'm not a fool either. I know when someone knows more than they're telling." Bellamy said nothing. He was endlessly grateful for Elysia's help, but he wasn't sorry for keeping this secret. "But there will be time for questions later. Have faith in your friend, Bellamy. I don't believe it's as hopeless as you feel it is. And when Clarke wakes up, you can tell her that you have a clean bill of health."

Bellamy didn't feel particularly healthy. "I do?"

Elysia's smile was kind. "The only diagnosis I can give you is exhaustion. I'd like you to rest, but I think we both know sleep will not come so easily." Bellamy shook his head, agreeing. "I want you to leave this room. Perhaps a stroll by the pond would help rejuvenate you."

He chose not to tell her the bad memories that pond held for him. "I can't. I can't just leave her."

"She won't be alone, Bellamy. You've done all you can to help her. The only way to help her now is to help yourself. Take a walk. Doctor's orders. As soon as Jackson finishes with his tests, we'll come find you."

Bellamy sighed, resigned. A walk did sound nice. Time to clear his head, to think of everything that he had just been through. It was a lot to take in and Bellamy hadn't had time to process any of it. So he headed for the door, but before leaving, he looked back at Elysia. "Thank you," he said, "for being there for her when we weren't."

Elysia smiled again, but her eyes were sad and Bellamy got his first glimpse at her own humble grief. "It wasn't hard. Clarke is an easy person to love."

Bellamy smiled back at her, thinking that wasn't strictly true. Thinking that it wasn't easy to love Clarke. It was hard not to.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

He was surprised to find the pond a peaceful place to be. He tried to let his mind go blank, and it was almost working. Bellamy took a deep breath, and the air was fresh and sweet. There was no stench of blood invading, and there was no threat looming. It was just a quiet morning. Still, Bellamy didn't start when he heard a voice behind him. He didn't turn either.

"Hey, man." It was Miller. Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw him settle into place next to him. That took him back, all the way back to the dropship days when Miller was his right hand man. "So you've been gone for a week. We haven't woken up Madi yet. We thought we'd give it at least a little longer, just in case."

Bellamy stayed silent, content just to look out over the water and listen.

"And Abby went back into cryo. She didn't trust herself not to relapse. She wanted to wait until Clarke came out or a month went by." Then, Miller cleared his throat. "But Jackson and I, we moved into a little room next to the hospital. They've been showing him the ropes. I think he and the Sanctum doctors have been learning a lot from each other. Echo's moved in with Raven and Elysia. Raven was the only one who didn't have to change rooms." Miller laughed a little bit, very softly. "Elysia wanted a roommate, I guess. And of course, everyone thinks Raven is Einstein reincarnated so she's been down in the lab. I think she's showing them the ropes, to be honest."

That earned a laugh from Bellamy. Miller looked heartened, so he kept going. "Murphy and Emori are still going strong, but you knew that. Emori's started involving herself in the decisions more. I think leadership suits her well. And Murphy just follows her around like a sullen puppy. And your sister…" Miller trailed off and Bellamy sucked in a breath, steeling himself to find out what she'd been doing. "Well, someone had to watch over the people still in cryo."

And they trusted Octavia? Bellamy was trying his best not to be wary, trying to remember the time when he'd trusted Octavia over anyone.

"She's not alone, if that's what you're worried about. Kane is with her. So is Indra. And I think… I think they're working through a lot of things. I think it's been good for her." There was a long silence as Bellamy absorbed that and the relief that came with it. Miller turned to face him. "I just thought you might want to know that everyone's going to be okay. And you don't have to worry about us."

Bellamy felt stunned for a moment. Was this what peace looked like? Real peace. Not just seven people living alone in space. This was how it felt? He was buried under worry for Clarke, but underneath all that pain, he felt a spark of joy too. Maybe even a spark of hope.

"Can I cut in?" He heard Raven's voice behind him, and he almost laughed again. So it was going to be a parade of his friends coming to comfort him. He was surprised to find that he didn't really mind. He couldn't look at Miller, but he could look at Raven. Miller hadn't been on the ring, but Raven had. And she had seen Bellamy at his absolute worst.

"You know, when I opened my door this morning, I almost didn't recognize you without the beard."

Bellamy chuckled a little, touching his fingers to his jawline absent-mindedly.

"It's been years since I've seen you look like this. But nothing's changed since then," she said, and her voice was a tearful whisper. "I'm still with you. And we will get through this."

And because it was Raven, and because he knew that Raven understood, maybe more than anyone, he let the tears show through in his own voice too. "What if she doesn't make it?"

Raven looked down. She wasn't going to lie to him and pretend that everything would be okay. It might not be okay. "It'll hurt. Like when Finn died. And Shaw." When she said Shaw's name, a tear slid down her cheek. "And it might hurt more for you than it did the first time. But we will get through it." And though she sounded so sad, her voice was firm.

"But how - how do I - If she doesn't make it, I don't…" Bellamy couldn't imagine it ever getting easier. He couldn't imagine living without Clarke would ever come naturally to him.

"You didn't think you'd get through it the first time. But you did. And you know how you did? Not alone."

Bellamy nodded, preparing himself to head down that dark and difficult path again when a third voice came up behind him. "What's got you guys so down?"

Raven shot him a glare. "Read the room, Murphy."

"I am. I'm reading the room I just came from," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. "Jackson sent me."

Bellamy's stomach dropped. He readied himself to hear the worst. But Murphy's face was relaxed.

"He says all systems go."

Bellamy shook his head, trying to understand. "What do you mean?"

"There's nothing wrong with her. No trace of Hexian venom left."

"So why isn't she waking up?" Raven asked, confused.

Murphy was quiet, looking at Bellamy almost suspiciously. "He'd know that better than any of us. He's the only one who knows what happened in there."

Bellamy didn't take the bait. "Let's head back in."

Murphy shook his head. "The only one going back is you, if you want to."

"Of course I want to. But why aren't you going?"

Murphy sighed. "We're going to wake up Madi. You gonna stop us again?"

"No," Bellamy said. This was the right thing to do and he knew it. "But when you bring her back… I want everyone in that room with her. No matter what happens, I want Madi to know that she doesn't have to go through this alone. That she still has a family. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm not doing it for you," Murphy said, but he said it kindly. "I'm doing it for Clarke."

Bellamy smiled, but he knew it wasn't reaching his eyes. "Does that mean you forgive her?"

Raven and Murphy shared a glance. "It means one cockroach can respect another." Then he clapped a hand to Bellamy's shoulder. "Clarke is going to be fine. Haven't you realized that by now?"

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke hadn't had time to talk to the real Monty the day of Praimfaya. And truth be told, she hadn't really had time to talk to him after Praimfaya either. She never would have guessed that she would lose him. And now… Now all that was left was his memory, his voice in her head. And it was the only voice that was telling her what she didn't want to hear right now, so she owed it to him to listen.

Clarke had asked Monty why he didn't want her to stay, but she knew. If Bellamy was her heart, then it made sense he wanted her to stay. Because that was exactly what her heart was telling her to do. But if Bellamy had always been her heart, Monty had always been her conscience. It was why he'd cautioned against killing Cooper, it was why he'd spoken out against the list. And it was also why he'd helped irradiate Mount Weather. Why he had never judged her for it. Never judged her for leaving either. Because in some way, that was different from everybody else, Monty understood.

He was never scared to tell her when he thought she was doing the wrong thing. And he was never angry with Clarke just because he was in pain. Mount Weather must have haunted him too and he didn't get the luxury of leaving. But when he saw her again, he wrapped her in a tight hug and said that he was glad she was back. Monty was never afraid to tell Clarke the truth.

And if Clarke's memory didn't reflect that, then it wouldn't be reflecting the thing she loved most about him. The reason he didn't want her to stay here with him was because it was not the right thing to do and she knew it. So he didn't answer her question as they sat together on the steps leading up to the rocket, where Clarke had watched Bellamy comfort Raven when they'd been sure that they were doomed.

Instead, Monty countered her question with one of his own. "Why did you run?"

There was a lot Clarke could say to that question. I thought it was the right thing to do, I thought everyone would be better off without me, I was scared that if I stayed we'd all end up hurting each other, but she just settled for the truth. "Because it was too hard." Monty's hand found Clarke's and squeezed, giving her strength to keep talking. "When I left, I still wasn't happy. But I'm happy here." What she didn't say was, I'm happy here with you, surrounded by all my friends, all the ones I've loved and lost. But she didn't have to say it. He knew. Of course he knew that was why.

Monty's eyes were gentle and kind, just like they were in real life. More than anything, she wished this was the real him. "When have you ever been one to take the easy way out?" Clarke drew in a sharp breath. "The Clarke I knew didn't give up."

She pulled her hand away. "The Clarke you knew is gone," she said, angry and tearful. "She's been gone for years now."

"Then why are you living in her memories? Why are you wearing her clothes?" She didn't have a good answer for that and he knew it. "This Clarke, the Clarke you're pretending to be, could have given up when she got the dish aligned. She could have stopped running after her helmet broke. But you didn't."

Clarke watched as a tear dripped off the bridge of her nose and splashed onto her wrist. She didn't bother to wipe it away.

"You outran the death wave. You didn't do that to save anyone, or because it was the right thing to do. God knows you didn't do it because it was easy. You did it because you wanted to live."

"Monty…"

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but I think that person's still inside you."

The tears threatened to overwhelm her, so she swallowed them down and said, "But you won't be there."

Monty shook his head. "No, I won't. But I'm not really here either."

She opened her mouth to say something, without knowing what it was she was planning on saying, when there was a crackle coming from halfway across the room. Coming from the radio. The one she had used when she thought she was dying and the one she hadn't let go of for six years. She looked at Monty, eyes wide. "Who is that?"

But the voice coming from the radio was a very familiar one. And really, Clarke should have known. "Clarke? I don't know if you can hear me. It's been one day since I left the Anomaly."

But it wasn't Monty's face she searched for when she turned around but Bellamy's, with an expression of wonder and awe. "It's me," he said. "Calling you back."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy wasn't sure what he was doing. He was just killing time before the others arrived with Madi, but… He hadn't tried talking to Clarke yet. He was almost frightened to. But he wondered if maybe it would make him feel better and he was surprised when, as soon as the first words came out of his mouth, he felt closer to her, like she could hear him.

Her hand was soft in his, but it wasn't cold. It was warm. She didn't look like she was dying, she looked like she was sleeping. So he kept talking. "If time passed like it did in the real world, then it's been six years since we were on that beach. But for me, it's only been hours and I miss you already." He closed his eyes for a moment. Just saying that he missed her made him miss her more. "I keep wondering if there was something I was supposed to do to save you, something I missed." He could almost hear Clarke's objections, telling him it wasn't his fault. She wasn't here to say it, so he would say it for her. "But talking like that does neither of us any good. Anyways, I still have hope. Because you're still breathing. It'd be nice if you could stay that way."

He couldn't bring himself to laugh at his half-hearted joke. He liked to think that she would have laughed, though.

"I wish you'd open your eyes. I wish… I wish for so many things, but you already know what they all are. It's just you and me in here. Everyone else has gone to get Madi. To get your daughter… Clarke, I want you to stay with us more than I've ever wanted anything." His voice started to grow strained and he felt his eyes stinging with tears. "But I know that it might not be up to you. So if you need peace, I'll give that to you. I'll take care of our people. I'll protect Madi, I promise. And this time, I'll keep that promise. We'll never get over you, and I'll never let you go. But we'll be okay."

His voice broke on the last word, and even though he knew it was true, it felt like a lie. He couldn't fathom ever being okay in a world without Clarke. But he took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together. "But if it is up to you, Clarke… Remember what I said to you on the beach. I said there were things I wanted to say to you. Don't you want to hear them?" He paused, a strange, small smile flickering and dying on his face. "But then I guess there's nothing I can say to you that you don't already know. Come home, Clarke. Please."

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke waited a moment on bated breath for Bellamy to say something else. She felt glued to the spot she was standing on. But when the radio stopped crackling and the line went silent, she rushed over, placing her thumb over the call button, a movement that was so familiar to her, she could do it in her sleep. "Bellamy, I can hear you," she said frantically. But there was no response. "Bellamy, I can hear you, come in."

There was a hand on her shoulder. "There's only one way to respond." It was Monty. With a shaking hand, Clarke set the radio down, looking over her shoulder. Behind Monty was Bellamy, and Clarke was hit with the briefest flash of disappointment. Because this wasn't the Bellamy who had called her on the radio. This was the Bellamy she had created because she was scared the real Bellamy wouldn't love her enough to make her want to live in the real world.

"You're smiling," she said to him, almost confused.

"You're happy to hear from me." But his eyes… Well, she knew why his eyes were sad. Because she'd made her decision. "We'll miss you."

"You're not even real."

"Screw that, we'll miss you anyway," Bellamy said, and Clarke allowed herself to laugh. Would things ever be this easy again?

But there they all were, all her friends, standing in a line, looking at her with love and understanding. They had done that once before, in the real world. Maybe they'd be able to do it again, even if it took years. Even if it took all her life. She went to Murphy first. "You were the only one to help me."

Murphy smirked. "Never saw that one coming."

"When I see you again, I'll have to find a way to thank you."

He shrugged. "Maybe you can start by telling me that you were the one who convinced Bellamy to give me a second chance all those years ago." Clarke remembered that. She was glad she did. And though she might not have trusted Murphy back then, she was sure she trusted him now.

Monty and Harper were next. There was no judgment in Monty's eyes anymore. He had changed her mind. Of course he had. He was probably the only person in the room who could have done it, real or not. She wrapped her arms tightly around both of them, holding on for a long, long time. Because they were the only ones who she would never see again. They might have only been products of her memory, but they felt real, and she could touch them and talk to them. She would never be able to do that again. It felt like losing them a second time. "I wish I could have told you how much I loved you," she whispered in their ear. They squeezed her tighter.

"We knew, Clarke."

She didn't know if she believed that, but she just said, "I really hope that's true."

The most difficult goodbye was next. Raven. Their friendship had never been an easy one, but it had always mattered more to her than practically any other. Raven was one of the best people Clarke knew. She always would be. And she had been at Clarke's side through some of the hardest decisions Clarke had ever had to make. Even after Finn died, even after she had left, Raven was there. Clarke bit her lip. "Do you think we can ever be friends again?"

In typical Raven honesty, she said, "I don't know. But I'd like to have the rest of our lives to find out, wouldn't you?"

Clarke nodded. There was nothing more to say. She couldn't heal her old wounds here. And though she was scared, she looked forward to looking Raven, the real Raven, in the eye and trying her best. That was all she could do, her best. "So," she said, shaking off any last traces of emotion. "How do I get out of here?"

Raven smiled, like she was happy Clarke asked her. Then she jerked her head up, making Clarke look behind her. The rocket's lights were on now, but they weren't white. They were green. "You get to go this time."

Clarke took a few slow steps towards the rocket, willing herself to believe it, but she turned around when she realized nobody was following her. "Alone?" she asked.

Harper nodded, her eyes watering. "Yeah," she whispered.

"We're gone too," Raven said. "You have to let us go now."

Clarke knew that just as staying behind had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do, getting on this rocket would be too. She tucked her helmet under her arm and placed her foot on the first step. Then the second.

And then she turned around. Bellamy was ready for her next step.

She all but ran towards him, but this time, she didn't throw herself into his arms. She did what she'd wanted to do for a very, very long time and she kissed him. It was everything she imagined it would be, which only made Clarke wonder what it would be like in the real world. His lips were soft and his hands were rough as they tangled themselves in her hair. And even as she kissed him, she wished she was kissing him, she wished she could be closer and closer and closer, she wished that this never had to end. But she was still the one to pull away.

"I love you," she said. But this time she wasn't saying it as a goodbye. Because he was out there, waiting for her. She knew that now. She didn't let go of his hand until the very last moment, until she was inside the rocket and shutting the door.

She saw him through the window, looking proud. When Bellamy had gotten on this rocket, he had been forced to look at the empty room. But Clarke had the privilege of seeing everyone she was leaving behind, and because of that, she wondered if maybe that meant she was able to take them with her.

There were buttons to press and levers to pull, but Clarke knew that she'd be able to find the right ones. And as the rocket took off, she finally came to the conclusion that had been waiting for her since the minute she set foot into the Anomaly, maybe since she set foot on Sanctum. Maybe since she had woken up in Becca's lab just to find herself all alone.

Her friends might never love her again. And maybe she would always be alone. Maybe the world was a cruel and lonely place, but good god, she wanted to be in it.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Bellamy felt better by the time everyone returned, but his heart was still in his throat at the thought of seeing Madi again. Of telling her that he'd failed. He'd failed at protecting her and he'd failed at protecting her mother. Murphy walked through the door, followed by Raven, Jackson, Miller and then finally, Madi. "How much did you tell her?" Bellamy said, directing his question towards Murphy.

But Madi was the one who answered. "Everything," she said. Her eyes were red and scared, but there was still something inside her that made her seem older. Bellamy didn't feel like leaving Clarke's side, but he didn't hesitate before going over and wrapping his arms around Madi. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"I can't tell you that. But you will not be alone."

"Yes I will. Without Clarke, I -"

Her voice was a sob when Bellamy cut her off. "Do me a favor. Look around you." Reluctantly, Madi pulled away, looking at everyone's faces. They were all looking right back at her. "We are all here for you. None of us will let you do this alone. Madi, I know what it was like in the valley."

She looked skeptical, and Bellamy knew there was nothing he could do to convince her that he knew, but he understood what she'd been through in a way he never had before.

"You will never be alone again." Madi nodded. He was about to give her a moment of privacy, herd everyone out of the room so that she could have a moment alone with Clarke. But when he looked back towards the girl on the cot, he saw Jackson standing over her, frowning. "What?" Bellamy said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice for Madi's sake and failing. "What is it?"

"Her heart's racing," Jackson said, taking her pulse.

"Why? What happened?"

For once, Jackson looked completely bewildered. "I don't know. I don't know what caused it." And by the look on his face, Bellamy could tell that meant he didn't know what to do.

You can prepare yourself for something, you can even think you've lived through it already, but when it happens, when you're face to face with your biggest fear, you have no idea how you'll react. For Bellamy, he wasn't angry. He wasn't crying. He was confused.

This didn't make sense. Clarke didn't get to die. Anyone else but Clarke, that was the deal. That had always been the deal. Bellamy distantly registered Madi's frantic questions, Jackson's plea for more room and his hands hovering over Clarke like they wanted so badly to help but couldn't.

And then a strange feeling came over Bellamy. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder what they were all so worried about. It wasn't a hope, it wasn't a conviction, it wasn't even a belief. It was a fact. Because there were some things in life you just inexplicably knew.

So as Bellamy made his way to Clarke's side, taking her hand in his, he knew that she was on her way back to him.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

When the first thing Clarke was able to register was Bellamy's hand in hers, she knew she made the right decision. But she was surprised when she opened her eyes and saw six faces looming over her instead of just the one she was prepared for. Raven, Murphy, Miller, Jackson, Bellamy, and Madi. For a moment, Clarke felt the distant urge to say "I told you so," but that urge was overwhelmed by the relief at seeing them safe and unharmed. It was one thing for Bellamy to tell her that her plan worked, and another to know that they were safe because of her.

She looked towards Bellamy, and she knew there was a lot she still had to make clear between them. But her vision was quickly obscured by a brown head of hair hurtling her way, pulling Bellamy's hand from hers. Clarke felt the fleeting desire to reach for it again, but when she realized who was hugging her, she started crying with joy.

For the first time in nearly six years, Clarke had been without Madi, forced only to focus on and take care of herself. And while she had needed that, it was a relief and a pleasure to hold her daughter in her arms again. Clarke didn't know who she would be without Madi. And everyone was kind enough to let them have their moment as they both cried. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I'm okay," Clarke said, in a hushed voice.

"I'm the commander, I would have -"

"Everything's alright," she said, stroking Madi's hair. After several long moments, Madi pulled away. Bellamy was no longer at her side, but before Clarke could wonder about that, she caught Raven's eye.

"Dying would have been a shitty way to make me forgive you," Raven said, and only by knowing her friend so well could Clarke tell she was trying valiantly to hold her emotions back.

"Does that mean you have?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable. She and Raven had a lot of history. And Raven had hurt her badly. But Clarke knew that when she sided with McCreary, she made it clear Raven was no longer a part of her family anymore, just like Bellamy had when he'd put the chip in Madi's head. It had taken Clarke time to forgive him. And she understood that Raven would need time to forgive her.

"I'm really glad you're not dead. How about we start there?"

Clarke laughed a little, dropping her head back on the cot. "Sounds good."

Raven's eyes turned expectantly to Murphy's at the same time Clarke's did, and he lifted his arms up in surrender. "Why are you looking at me? I'm the only one who didn't screw you over. I get to keep my grudge."

Raven rolled her eyes, and Clarke felt touched by being included in this fond, domestic moment. "I guess that's fair."

"Don't worry, Clarke. I knew you'd pull through, so I've been working on a list of ways you can make it up to me ever since you left the Anomaly."

"Well, I'd like to see it," she said, and though she was pleased that things were easy for once, she was distracted too. She scanned the spaces over their shoulders looking for Bellamy. She spotted him by the door, looking back at her. He nodded, trying to convey an understanding that Clarke instantly got. He was letting her have a moment with her people. Then he disappeared into the Sanctum sunshine.

"Okay," Jackson said, smiling. "Everyone out. I need to run some tests."

Clarke leaned her head back, closing her eyes as four voices protested. When she opened them, there were still five faces in the room, even if four of them had backed up a couple of feet. The message was clear: they weren't going anywhere.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It was only fifteen minutes later that Jackson gave Clarke a clean bill of health. And she was glad to see her friends, but they understood as well as she did that she had to see Bellamy and she had to be alone. She found him by the pond. Almost instinctively, she reached towards her neck. The bruises faded, but the memory probably never would. Clarke thought that maybe that was alright. After all, it didn't hurt in the same way now. It barely even hurt at all.

As soon as Bellamy caught sight of her, Clarke knew that things really were different. She felt no fear, no trepidation, no insecurity. He looked happy to see her and Clarke was able to believe that he really was. The first thing he did was wrap her in his arms. He didn't have to say anything. Neither did she. He waited until they pulled away to ask the question she was dreading to answer.

"What the hell went wrong?"

"I was scared to leave. Scared that things wouldn't be the same. Or scared that they would."

She saw a flash of anger on his face. "I thought - I thought that I had done something wrong."

"I know," Clarke said, "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you that you weren't part of the reason I stayed. But you were." Then she took his hand in hers. "But you were also the reason I left."

Bellamy was quiet for a moment, and Clarke wondered if he was going to be angry with her. He seemed to be wondering the same thing. But instead, he just said, "I'm really glad you did."

"So what now?"

"Well, I think they're out of beds in Sanctum. So I was thinking… I'm gonna head back to the dropship." Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, confused, so Bellamy elaborated. "Octavia is there. I thought the person I was before Praimfaya was long since gone, but then the Anomaly… I have to hope that my sister is still in there somewhere. But if she's ever gonna make it out, she can't do it alone."

Clarke was hit with a wave of deja vu. He had to go and look after his sister. And she would stay here in Sanctum, with Madi. At least this time she knew that she would see him again. "I understand," she said.

But then, Bellamy looked at her with his soft and tender gaze, the kind that he reserved for her and her alone and said, "Do you want to come with me?" and Clarke realized that maybe she hadn't understood at all.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Of course, the first thing they did when they got to the dropship was sleep. And if Kane walked in, surprised to find them curled together on a makeshift couch, he was tactful enough not to mention it when they woke. Bellamy had a long conversation with Octavia, letting her know that he was there for her, but they couldn't ever go back to before, and that had to be okay.

Surprisingly enough, Kane and Indra seemed to have been helping a lot. And it wasn't an easy conversation and it didn't go exactly smoothly, but it was a start. Bellamy was stunned to realize that when Kane said they'd have time to work things out, that was really true.

Clarke got to wake up her mother from cryo. There were lots of tears and promises and thank yous exchanged, but Bellamy let them have that moment alone. He was starting to feel okay about letting Clarke out of his sight. He was starting to realize that the threats, the ones they'd been running from practically all their lives, were gone now.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

On the day they woke Diyoza from cryo, Octavia was the one to greet her. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" Bellamy asked Kane.

Kane nodded, saying, "It's easy to learn to work with people who want to help you. But if Octavia can learn to work with her enemies, then that will mean that we have done good by her, Bellamy. That our hope was not for nothing. You cannot have growth without trust."

So Bellamy was surprised when, a month later, Octavia was right alongside Abby as she helped deliver Hope. But he shouldn't have been surprised by how much she seemed to love that kid. She was a Blake. It was in her blood.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Clarke was doing better than she'd expected since leaving the Anomaly, but she wondered where Bellamy went everyday. He'd disappear for two hours after lunch, telling her he was just popping back to Sanctum to visit, which was strange since they already did that most nights. She always offered to go with him, but he'd always say, "Stay here. I'll be back soon."

Madi had come to the dropship to stay with them, though the remnants of the Grounders wanted her with them. By the time she came to Clarke and asked her to take the chip out, it wasn't a surprise like it would have been months ago.

"I wanted to stay the commander because I thought my people needed it. But if they don't need it… I want to go to school. I want to talk to other kids my age."

And, side by side with Gaia, they took out the flame and a weight Clarke hadn't realized she was still carrying around with her had lifted. So, staying with Madi and her mother in the dropship, helping care for Hope and tentatively befriending Octavia again, wasn't a bad way to spend her time. If it weren't for those two hours a day Bellamy spent doing something he didn't want to tell her about, Clarke's mind would have been completely at peace.

But. She decided to wait, just a little while longer, before confronting him about it. Everything with them was good, better than it had ever been, even if what she'd thought might happen after she left the Anomaly hadn't yet. She had the suspicion that he was going to see Echo and that he didn't want to hurt her. If that was the truth, it would have been silly to hide it from her. Clarke understood that things couldn't go back to how they were before. She was thankful for the extra time the Anomaly had granted them, but she had no expectations. And after a while, she let go of her hopes too.

Instead, Clarke focused her attention on healing old wounds. Murphy's was the easiest. She kept getting thrown back to that night in Polis, when he was there for her at her darkest moment. And Clarke knew that though their relationship had always been a rocky one at best, there were bonds that didn't just go away. They'd get a drink together night after night, and eventually the bitter conversations turned into story-telling sessions and the shy smiles turned into outright laughter. By the time Clarke told him that she was glad she'd persuaded Bellamy to give Murphy a second chance, he was able to tell her how that had saved his life, even if it had taken him a while to realize it.

Raven was different. The first night Clarke was back in Sanctum, Raven just seemed happy that her friend was alive, and Clarke had almost fooled herself into thinking that bygones could just be bygones. When she touched a sore spot with Murphy, it tended to result in some level of understanding. But the moment Clarke mentioned Diyoza and the baby to Raven, though it was only the second or third time they had been alone together, something in Raven tightened.

The tension didn't go away after that, but it did loosen ever-so-slightly. Clarke said she was sorry and knew that there was nothing more she could say. She said that Raven was one of the only people left alive that she loved fiercely. She said that it broke her heart when Raven didn't help her the night she tried to get everyone to leave, but she couldn't find it within herself to be angry about it. And then Raven stayed upset and Clarke found it within herself.

That was a nasty day, when they trotted out the long list of everything they'd done to let the other down, things Clarke hadn't even realized she still held onto. And then, the next night, Raven joined Clarke and Murphy for a drink. And Clarke knew that things had taken a turn for the better. Within a month, she and Clarke were as tight as they'd been before the Ark came down. Tighter now that Finn wasn't there to come between them.

So that just left Bellamy, who still disappeared every day, who still hadn't said what he'd wanted to say. Was there a wound left unhealed that Clarke didn't know about? Or was it Echo, who had made it a point to be welcoming to her, if not friendly? But she was tired of pretending like nothing was wrong, so after almost two months of this, she followed him. She wasn't exactly proud of what she was doing, but if he was with Echo, she would hope that he didn't think Clarke too fragile to know.

She stayed a decent distance behind Bellamy, making sure she was out of sight. But as the part of Sanctum they were entering grew more and more secluded, she was worried about keeping her cover. Still, Clarke was surprised by how disappointed she was when she saw Echo greet him. She had prepared herself for this. So why did it hurt so much more than she'd thought it would? Perhaps Bellamy had been right to protect her from this truth.

"Ready to get to work?" Clarke heard Echo say.

Bellamy's voice was light and happy when he said "Of course."

And naturally, that was the moment Clarke's foot decided to land on a notably noisy twig. Bellamy and Echo's instincts were too well-trained not to notice. Their heads whipped around, looking alarmed and prepared for battle. Since the jig was clearly up, Clarke decided not to embarrass herself more than was strictly necessary and surrender.

"Clarke?" Bellamy asked, sounding relieved and confused and happy at the same time. He crossed the distance between them and settled into place in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I spent months trying not to ask you the same thing." She lowered her voice, doing her best not to look at Echo behind him, waiting patiently. "You didn't have to hide this from me."

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

Clarke laughed meanly and then shook her head, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

Bellamy narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Echo. I figured you were still together, you didn't have to - Look, Bellamy. I have no expectations about -"

"What if I do?"

Clarke blinked, stunned. "What if you what?"

"What if I have expectations?" he asked, as if it was simple. You sure haven't given me reason to believe that you do, Clarke wanted to say, but she was starting to think she'd rather hear him out. "Since you couldn't wait one more week for the surprise to be ready, why don't you follow me?"

He turned before she could agree or disagree, leaving her no choice. It wasn't until later that she realized he was nervous. But when they rounded the corner and she saw what he'd been hiding from her, everything became startlingly clear.

"I thought that maybe you were starting to get tired of sleeping in the dropship. And that it might be nice to have a place of our own, so I asked Echo to help me."

Clarke had only ever been able to dream of a house like this. It felt like she was on Earth before the bombs. She had so many questions. Where did he find these bricks? How did he know how to build a chimney? Who had helped him and how had he hidden this from her for this long? But she was too shocked to say anything, so Bellamy continued with his nervous speech.

"Everyone else has found somewhere to stay. And I wondered if maybe you and Madi would like to move in here. With me," he concluded awkwardly, but Clarke still couldn't find words to express how a gift like this made her feel. "Or it could be just you and Madi if you don't - that is, if you're not -"

"Bellamy," Clarke said softly, but it was enough to shut him up. "You built me a house?"

He nodded. "I built you a house."

And without thinking about the consequences, without calculating the risk she was taking, without wondering who besides her and Bellamy this could possibly affect, Clarke threw her arms around her best friend in the whole fucking world and kissed him.

She was right. It was different than it had been in the Anomaly. He was surprised, so he took a moment to respond, but when he did, it was with more enthusiasm than she would have predicted. His cheeks were rough with slight stubble, and his hands were cold as the Sanctum air. And it wasn't as perfect as the kiss in the Anomaly. It was better, because it was real.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

A week later, Clarke and Madi moved into their new home. Perhaps Bellamy had been a bit presumptuous by only asking for two beds, but it turned out that no, he wasn't being presumptuous at all. He could tell by the way she smiled that he had guessed right on all fronts. He had been waiting for her to make the first move. He didn't want to scare her, and he wanted to give her time. Everyone had a lot to say to each other. Bellamy wanted him to be a solid foundation to fall back on when things were hard, and if they confronted what they meant to each other, then that would be another thing left unresolved while she was trying so hard to make amends.

So it had to be on Clarke's own terms. Of course, now that she had finally given an answer to his long-unanswered question, it was like he couldn't stop kissing her. He started to wonder how they had managed to waste so much time ever doing anything else. But he knew that the time they'd spent talking to each other, learning everything about each other, and loving each other in painful silence was the reason that it was so sweet to finally have each other, and to be able to say it out loud.

And on the night Bellamy finally told her what he had wanted to say on that beach in the Anomaly, or in front of the rover on the last good day before Praimfaya, there was no war to fight in the morning, and neither of them had even the slightest fear of waking up alone. They said it because the moon was full and the air was crisp and cold and lovely, and their friends were shining and laughing and simply because it was true. Because it had always been true.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

There was a long time in Clarke's life where she thought that there would only ever be one horrible story she would be able to tell. But the night that Bellamy told her what he wanted to tell her, she realized that another story was beginning.

That was funny. She never thought she'd get another story.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

That wasn't to say it was easy from there. They still had nightmares, and they still had problems. Bellamy joined the hunting party and came back injured far too often for Clarke's liking. He still didn't want anyone to look after him except for her, so they spent a lot of time in the kitchen patching him up.

Then there was that one day when Clarke fell down in the woods, slicing open on a rock the same leg that Madi had sloppily stitched up when she was seven.

But this time, though Bellamy's heart was still pounding and he still felt somehow frantic with worry, she wasn't alone. She didn't have to talk anyone through healing her. She didn't have to stop herself from closing her eyes. And there was Jackson and Abby, two people she loved, to help mend her wound. When she woke up, Bellamy's hand was in hers and he was asleep at her side.

But it wasn't because he worried, and it wasn't because the prognosis was bad. It was simply because when someone you love is hurt, you are there to hold their hand. Bellamy didn't have to hide that he loved Clarke anymore. Though, if he was being honest, he'd never done the best job at hiding it in the first place.

They even got used to the eclipses. When a year had passed and the Hexians were due to arrive, Clarke volunteered to stay back and see if she really had eliminated that threat. If maybe they didn't have to evacuate Sanctum every year anymore. Of course, Bellamy wouldn't let her do it alone. And neither would Elysia, who had become just as much a part of their group as anyone had ever been. In fact, it seemed like Jordan had taken a liking to her. Clarke thought Monty would be really happy if he could see them together.

Elysia, with her eclipse immunity, did the same for Clarke as she had when they first met. Clarke wasn't frightened this time. And she wasn't tied up either. She and Bellamy took the sedative together and woke up feeling angry and sad, but clean of bruises or stab wounds, so Clarke would say that was a definite improvement on last year. And she knew how scared Bellamy was to see the Hexians again, scared of what could happen, and scared of the memories it would trigger. She knew that most of his nightmares were about losing her, just as most of hers were about losing him.

But they had nothing to be afraid of. The Hexians never emerged. They would become a memory, and eventually, a legend.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Octavia came to visit often, and she and Diyoza had actually moved in together to take care of Hope. Clarke didn't mean to overhear the night Bellamy's sister told him, "I understand now. I understand everything, big brother. And I'm sorry." But she was glad to know that even Octavia and Diyoza were doing okay.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It wasn't until two and a half years after leaving the Anomaly, on the most ordinary of days, that Clarke and Bellamy finally realized they'd truly made it through everything that had almost destroyed them. They were sitting on the couch by the window, sunlight streaming onto Bellamy's face, turning him golden. Clarke was drawing in a sketchbook, truthfully not paying too much attention to her subject until Bellamy peered over at her paper. The dropship, plummeting down to Earth. Before it landed and those two boys died. When every member of the 100 was alive, with their hearts in their throats and excitement in their eyes.

"Do you ever wish we could go back there?" Bellamy said, in a low, wistful voice.

Clarke looked out the window at Madi and Raven laughing in the front lawn. "I think about it all the time." And it was true. She thought of Monty and Jasper high-fiving each other. She thought of Finn and Lincoln, striving towards peace. She thought of Monroe and Roma, so young and so brave. She thought of Charlotte's wide eyes and Wells' warm hug. She thought of Harper's quiet bravery, and Sinclair's humble genius.

And then she reached for Bellamy's hand, holding it tightly in her own. He had been hers for years now. For nearly a decade, they had belonged to each other. She wouldn't trade their story for anything. But the story that had begun two years ago the night she had told him she loved him too, not as a way to say goodbye, but as a way to start the life she hadn't dared to dream of, was one she never wanted to end. So she told him the truth. "But no. I don't. Because then I wouldn't be here."

And for once in Clarke's life, she was exactly where she wanted to be.


End file.
